


Love Actually Is...

by eris223



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 12DaysofClexa, Christmas, Clexmas18, Day11: A Christmas Story, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Love Actually, Minor Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Minor Bellamy Blake/Echo, cute and romantic, hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17002119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eris223/pseuds/eris223
Summary: Lexa, Clarke, and all the usual suspects deal with their love lives in an interrelated tale set during the frantic month before Christmas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nanoly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanoly/gifts).



> Merry Clexmas, y'all!
> 
> On a whim, I decided to respond to a little post on tumblr that was asking for a fanfic writer to create a story based on a Love Actually manip. Well, she accepted my offer, sent me her amazing manip, and here we are! I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.
> 
> December 19th Update: By request, I've added a link to the translation of the Linctavia scene. If you're curious as to what that handsome Swedish man is saying, go ahead and click. I'll add links for every chapter from now on. Enjoy!

_Love is a funny thing. There have been so many clichés written about love. So many songs. It’s what all the great authors write about. We celebrate when we find it, we mourn when we lose it. Love is the one thing that universally connects us. And yet, it’s different for everyone. Some people express their love through touches; hugs, kisses, a gentle hand laid upon a shoulder. For others, it’s what they do; cooking dinner for their children, doing laundry, taking the time out of a busy schedule just to stop by for a quick cup of coffee. Sometimes love is expressed simply by saying it; a few words straight from the heart. No matter how we choose to convey it; love actually is always around._

 

**4 Weeks Until Christmas**

Lexa slumped back in her leather chair, arms thrown haphazardly over the side as she swayed lazily back and forth. Another employee just left her office, begging her for a few weeks off for the holidays, and she had agreed. What kind of boss would she have been if she didn’t allow one of her most dedicated, loyal, and hardworking employees a much deserved holiday to find herself?

Lexa understood it. All too well. Christmas was hard when you didn’t have a loved one around to share it with. It could be downright depressing by yourself, and Lexa caved like the deep down sap she was when she heard Octavia talk about her family. Mother and father gone long ago, brother in a relationship for the first time ever through the holidays, and she just needed a break. Lexa even offered up her family’s cottage to her.

Octavia seemed a little reluctant with that offer, surprisingly more concerned with accepting charity than the fact that she would have to travel halfway around the world to a country where the sun rose at 8 am and set at 3 pm. But in the end, the promise of a white Christmas and the lack of people surrounding the tiny log cabin won out, and Lexa happily promised to send her the details in the morning.

Lexa was pulled from thoughts of Sweden and happy childhood memories by a sharp rap on her door. Before she could offer a reply, her assistant popped her head through the doorway. “Lexa? ‘The Clarke Griffin’ is here to see you.”

Lexa chuckled at the sight of her usually overly formal, powersuit wearing assistant using air quotes.

“The Clarke Griffin?” Lexa parroted back, sitting up in her chair. Just the thought of Clarke had her instantly smiling, and an inexplicable warmth shot through her body.

“The one and only!”

Lexa full out grinned as familiar blonde hair bounced on perfect shoulders, and Clarke waltzed into her office without waiting for her invitation. Lexa bit her tongue at her assistant's clear disdain for Clarke’s blatant disregard for common courtesy, and surprisingly, managed to not chuckle at her employee’s expense.

“Thank you, Indra. Hold my calls while ‘The Clarke Griffin’ is here, please.”

With a narrowing of eyes and a barely audible, “of course,” Indra turned and left the office. Lexa waited to hear that click of a closed door before turning towards her unexpected but completely welcome guest.

“So, what can I do for you, Clarke?”

Lexa smiled as Clarke made herself comfortable on the leather sofa against the window. She couldn’t help but love the way the woman felt so at ease, so at home, in her office. “I was in the neighborhood.”

Lexa shook her head, stood, and walked slowly over to join Clarke on the sofa. She settled herself down, and if her thigh gently rested against Clarke’s, well, neither one of them complained. “No, you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Clarke relented with a huff. She turned her head cautiously towards Lexa as if she were embarrassed by the real reason for the impromptu visit. “I came by to ask your opinion about something.”

“And you couldn’t have done this over the phone?” Lexa chuckled.

“Of course, I could have,” Clarke retorted. She turned her whole body to face Lexa, and as she did, her leg pressed firmly against Lexa’s and the sensation of warm body heat sent a jolt up Lexa’s spine. She swallowed the feeling down and kept her composure and attention on Clarke.

“But then you could’ve easily lied to me and just told me what I wanted to hear,” Clarke continued, completely unaware of the effect her touch had on Lexa. “You’re very good at controlling the emotions in your voice, but you tell a whole different story with your eyes. So if I ask in person, your words may be what I want to hear, but your eyes could never lie to me.”

“I would never lie to you, Clarke!” Lexa gasped.

“What about the time you said you loved the cookies?” Clarke challenged, her eyes full of menacing glee.

“I did love the cookies,” Lexa quickly countered as she recalled the memory. Sure, they were a little on the crispy side, and perhaps Clarke accidentally swapped baking powder for baking soda, but they were still completely edible, and Clarke made them just for her, so that fact, by default, made them the best cookies she’d ever had.

“Lexa, Anya’s dog wouldn’t even eat those cookies.”

“Anya’s dog doesn’t possess the fine culinary palate that I do,” Lexa grinned, just waiting for Clarke to argue that fact. She was fully prepared to drop her useless knowledge that technically, her statement was scientifically true. Humans have around 9,000 taste buds. That’s six times more than the dog’s 1,700.

But Clarke didn’t put up a fight. She just smirked, “Or how about the time you said I could pick the movie, so I picked that one where all the women go into that cave and then get stalked by those creatures and you said you weren’t scared?”

“I wasn’t scared,” Lexa bit out hastily.

“You spent the entire movie half hidden under a blanket.”

“It was cold,” Lexa muttered quietly. Okay, so Clarke may have had a point about the whole lying to make her feel good thing. And to make matters worse, Clarke was beginning to realize she had won if that wickedly smug grin was anything to go by.

Not eager to admit she was wrong, Lexa cleared her throat and promptly changed the subject. “So, what did you come here to ask?”

“Oh, right, yes.” Clarke sat up straighter and all playfulness fled her beautiful face. Lexa noticed Clarke nervously wringing her hands in her lap, so she slowly reached out and covered them with her own. Clarke stilled at the touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, she smiled softly and took a deep breath before asking, “Well, you know how I wanted to record a Christmas song this year?”

Lexa gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You mentioned it once or twice.”

“I called my uncle.”

“You did?” Lexa blinked rapidly at the admission, stunned into a very inopportune silence. Clarke withdrew her hands quickly, covered her face, and mumbled through her fingers.

“Ugh, I knew it was a bad idea! Thank god he didn’t answer. I didn’t even have to ask and get turned down. He wouldn’t want his mediocre great niece touching anything he produced. It was a stupid idea. See? This is why I had to ask in person. You would have lied on the phone. Said it was a great idea, and then I’d be crushed when he said no.”

Finally snapping out of her bewildered stupor by Clarke’s clear panic, Lexa reached out once again, pulling Clarke’s hands away from her face. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. I was just surprised you called him, that’s all.” Lexa held on tightly, drawing random soothing patterns on Clarke’s knuckles with her thumbs. “You usually keep that familial connection pretty quiet. I think it’s a great idea, and he’d be a fool to not let you cover it.”

“Really?”

Lexa smiled as she nodded, tightening her hold on Clarke’s hands once more, happy to make this woman feel like the amazingly talented musician she was. “Look into my eyes,” Lexa commanded without a fraction of doubt. She knew Clarke would rock the hell out of any song she wanted to sing and was more than confident her eyes would scream that too.

Taking a deep breath, Clarke finally visibly relaxed. “Thank you.”

Lexa felt her whole body soften with those two simple words. She loved to help Clarke in whatever way she could. She lived for it. With a sudden thought, Lexa stood, offering her hand. “What are you doing right now?”

“Other than wondering what’s got you so suddenly excited?” Clarke chuckled as she was pulled up from the sofa. “Nothing.”

“I haven’t had lunch yet, so maybe we could grab something together?” Lexa asked with an unusual bout of nervousness. “If you’d like?”

“Lexa, I’d love-”

Clarke’s response was abruptly cut off by the shrill ringing of a phone. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the source of the interruption. One look at the screen was enough to have Clarke’s eyes widen almost comically.

“I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

Lexa nodded and crossed the room, taking her seat behind her desk to offer Clarke some tiny form of privacy for the call. Lexa trained her eyes on her computer and actively tried to not eavesdrop on Clarke’s conversation, but that proved to be futile as Clarke greeted her caller.

“Uncle Billy? Hi! How are you? Yes, I received the copy. Uh huh. It was actually very engaging. Macknificent, actually! I thought it was funny. You were? Oh, what did you want to talk to me about? Really? I would love to! Thank you! I can speak with my manager now. It’s not a problem. The sooner the better. Wells Jaha. He’ll get in touch with your manager. Thank you, Uncle Billy. Really, this means so much to me. Take care.”

Lexa smiled as Clarke ended the phone call. Although Clarke’s back was to her, Lexa could easily see the excitement bristling through her body. “He’s letting you cover his song, isn’t he?”

“Yes!” Clarke squealed as she turned around, a contagious grin plastered on her face. “I didn’t even ask. He offered! Can you believe it?”

“That’s amazing, Clarke! I’m so happy for you.” And she was. Lexa couldn’t be prouder at this moment if she tried.

“There’s so much to do! I need to talk to Wells so he can set up the contract,” Clarke began to ramble as she paced in front of the window. “I need to compose the new arrangements to better suit my style, make sure my producer is available, god! I hope my band isn’t busy this week. I need to book studio time, plan a video…”

She suddenly stopped, a sheepish smile on her face as she addressed Lexa. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

“It’s quite alright,” Lexa smirked. It was hard to not reciprocate the giddiness emanating through Clarke right now. “I like to see you passionate. Now go on. Get out of here. You have plenty to do.”

“But lunch-”

“Can be rescheduled,” Lexa stated with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “Go on. Go make music.”

Clarke crossed the room in an instant, and Lexa stood from her chair at the approach. She melted into Clarke’s warm embrace and shuddered as Clarke’s breath tickled her neck when she spoke. “Why are you so good to me?”

Lexa sighed and wanted nothing more than to place a kiss on those pink lips that were currently just ever so close to brushing against her sensitive neck. But she didn’t. Instead, she breathed out, “Because I-”

Clarke pulled the phone she still had clutched in her hand up. “It’s Wells.”

Lexa released Clarke and slowly stepped away. “I’m sorry,” Clarke lamented, a genuine look of disappointment on her face. “I have to take this. See you later?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded, crestfallen, as Clarke began to walk towards the door. “See you later.”

Clarke swiped at her phone, but before she brought it to her ear, called out, “Bye, Lexa!”

Lexa stood there in the middle of her office, waving like an idiot at the closed door. She let out an exasperated sigh and turned back towards her desk. She had just settled down, ready to get back to work when another familiar voice echoed in her office.

“So what did the fabulous Clarke Griffin want?”

“Hmm?” Lexa responded, not even bothering to look up from the paperwork in front of her.

“I just saw her practically dance out of here,” Anya stated before slumping down into one of the two leather chairs facing her desk. “What on earth did you say to her to get her so giddy?”

Lexa finally looked up from her papers and shrugged. “I didn’t say much of anything. She got a call from her uncle.”

“The famous uncle?” Anya exclaimed, now sitting at full attention.

“That’s the one. He wants her to do a cover of his Christmas song.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m serious,” Lexa nodded. “She ran out of here to arrange everything.”

“That’s fantastic news!” Anya smiled. “So why do you look so sad?”

Lexa furrowed her eyebrows, completely unaware that she was projecting any feeling other than joy for Clarke. “I’m not sad. I’m happy for her. Truly.”

Anya sat there, staring at her, staring _through_ her. That same look that got Lexa to confess to anything as a child, and it would seem as if that look could still get her to confess to anything. “It’s just… She’s going to be so busy.”

“Ah, I get it. Not enough time for your pining ass.”

“Hey!” Lexa shouted, throwing her pen the haphazardly towards her annoying sister. “I do not pine for Clarke!”

“Say what you want, little sis,” Anya chuckled as she easily dodged the flying writing instrument. “But you have it so bad for that woman.”

“I…” Lexa began, trying to come up with a good enough retort. But it was useless. She knew it. Anya knew it. So she just shrugged. “Yeah, I know.”

“This is a good opportunity for her.”

“I know.”

“You have me. And Aden. And we all know you’re busy as hell around the holidays anyway.”

“I know.”

“So chin up, kid,” Anya consoled. She stood and walked towards the office door. “It’s Christmas time.”

*****

As Octavia navigated her rental car through the snow-covered trees, she released a heavy sigh, grateful to finally see the shocking red paint against the idyllic white background. The cottage looked like it should be front and center on a vintage Christmas card. All it was missing was an old-fashioned sled and a jolly bearded man dressed in red.

She pulled her car to a stop, but before she turned it off, she grabbed her phone, suddenly remembering a promised phone call.

The ringing lasted less than a second before her ear was flooded with that deep voice she knew so well. “Hey, Bell.”

_“O! You made it then?”_

“Yeah, I’m pulling up to the cottage now.” Octavia took a moment to really admire the home in front of her. Her eyes danced from the welcoming front porch to the cute circular second story windows to the very large snow covered patio. “Holy shit.”

_“What? Is it a dump? I told you that you shouldn’t have gone. You should have just stayed here, spent Christmas with your family.”_

Octavia rolled her eyes at her brother’s repetition of a pointless argument. She made up her mind the moment Bellamy started talking about finally having someone to spend Christmas with. There was no way she was going to subject herself to that this year.

“Oh, please. We both know you’re going to spend Christmas with Echo and her family.”

 _“Yes. But you were invited too.”_ Octavia could hear the disapproval on her brother’s face over the phone. She sighed, a clear sign that she really didn’t want to talk about this. Again. And luckily Bellamy was smart enough to change the subject. _“Now what was that holy shit for?”_

“It’s bigger than I thought,” Octavia mumbled mostly to herself.

_“Remind me again why you’re in Sweden, a country you’ve never expressed any desire to visit, alone, during the holidays.”_

“Jesus, Bell,” Octavia groaned, running her free hand exasperatingly through her hair. Apparently, her brother really wasn’t smart enough to just let it go, so for what seemed like the hundredth time she explained. “We’ve been over this. I just needed something different this year. Lexa offered it to me, I accepted.”

_“Your boss, Lexa?”_

“Yes, Bell, my boss, Lexa. Some people actually get along with their superiors and have civil relationships with them.”

_“I get along just fine with my boss, thank you. He just doesn’t go around offering up his vacation home to employees.”_

“Listen, big brother. I love you, but I have to go now. It’s freezing, and I really don’t want to make two trips from the car. I’ll call you in a few days.”

_“Be safe.”_

“Yeah, yeah,” she dismissed. “Say hi to Echo for me.”

_“I will. Love you, O.”_

Octavia waited, keeping the phone pressed to her ear, for Bellamy to end the call. With a final little huff of concern or annoyance, she really couldn’t tell, he hung up. Octavia immediately tossed her phone in her bag and began rummaging around, her hand pushing aside ticket stubs, loose gum wrappers, and change.

“Keys, keys, where are the keys. Ah ha!” Octavia triumphantly dangled the perfectly organized keychain from her finger and situated her bag securely in her shoulder. “Here we go.”

With a deep breath, she prepared herself for the icy blast of wind she knew was inevitable as she stepped out of the toasty car. The freezing wind stung her eyes, but she smiled regardless. She was here, and it was beautiful.

She quickly gathered her bags and trudged through the thick snow towards the house. Within only a moment, Octavia stood inside, admiring the inviting living room. Books lined the shelves that surrounded the room, and a cozy blanket laid sprawled over the back of the most comfortable looking couch she’d ever seen. There was a perfectly decorated tree in the corner adorned with red and white knitted ornaments and a fire raging in the central fireplace.

“Wow,” she murmured aloud. “I’m going to have to send Lexa a very nice Christmas card this year.”

Octavia approached the fireplace, its warmth calling her like a siren’s song. She had just placed her hands close enough to feel the heat lick at her fingers when she heard a distinct creak from above her.

“Hello?”

She stood, her eyes searching for any sign of human life in the cottage. Finding nothing, Octavia slowly made her way towards the staircase. She reached out and held onto the railing as if the gesture would protect her should a threat arise. “Is there someone there?”

“[Hallå? Lexa? Är ](https://eris223.tumblr.com/post/181245464974/linctavia-translations-for-love-actually)det[ du?](https://eris223.tumblr.com/post/181245464974/linctavia-translations-for-love-actually)”

Octavia froze as a towering man popped his head around the corner of the staircase. The smile on his perfectly sculpted face quickly morphed into one of confusion.

“Du är inte Lexa. Vem är du?”

Octavia slowly raised her hands in surrender, intentionally displaying the keychain still hooked on her finger. This man clearly knew Lexa. Her name was the one thing she understood coming out of his mouth. “I’m Octavia. Lexa’s friend. Please don’t call the cops.”

The man lowered his eyes, glaring at Octavia in a way that almost made her cower. How a man could be so attractive while looking so intimidating was beyond her.

“Jag hoppas att du är en kompis till Lexa. Jag vill inte ringa polisen.”

It was then that Octavia’s brain finally kicked into gear. In the email Lexa sent days ago, she mentioned a man who took care of the cottage while she was away. She closed her eyes and dug deep, trying to remember what she said his name was. It was odd sounding to her, definitely not a name she would associate with Sweden.

“Lincoln!” She shouted, snapping her fingers. “You must be Lincoln. Lexa told me you and your family look after the place when she’s not here.”

The sound of his name instantly had the man sighing in relief. He smirked at her, and god damn, if her heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight. He sauntered down the stairs as if he were walking down a Parisian runway, pausing on the step just in front of her. His towering stature was only heightened by the few extra inches the stair provided, and Octavia found her neck craning upwards as he spoke.

“Lincoln, ja. Jag tar hand om huset när Lexa är i Staterna.”

  
He held out his hand, and Octavia took it, marveling at how soft and warm the gesture made her feel. She sighed. Of course it was just her luck. She finally met a man who instantly captured her attention, and she had no clue how to talk to him. “You don’t speak English by any chance, do you?”

Lincoln only smiled and shook his head. He gestured for her to follow, muttering, “Jag borde ha hållit upp med min engelska,” as he led her on a silent tour around the cottage.

Octavia followed willingly, nodding and offering simple one-word exclamations as they went. She tried her best to pay attention to the things he was showing her, but it was increasingly more difficult after she accidentally bumped into him. Her face collided with his firm back, and she got a noseful of whatever intoxicating scent that just was Lincoln. Her mind and senses seemed to short circuit after that encounter, and what little information she had obtained previously might as well have been whispers on the wind. All she could focus on was Lincoln.

When Lincoln reached the front door of the house, he gave a soft quick little smile as his shoulders shrugged heavily. Octavia followed the movement, mesmerized by the muscles straining the fabric of his sweater.

Feeling brave and confident that he understood nothing coming from her mouth, Octavia returned the little smile and offered freely what she was thinking. “Lexa didn’t tell me you were so attractive.”

He didn’t even respond, and instead, reached behind him and grabbed the thick jacket hanging on the coat rack. Octavia couldn’t help but roll her eyes. How could she have missed that when she walked through the door earlier? It would have saved her several moments of pure panic if she had just noticed that there was another coat hanging next to hers.

“Jag önskar att Lexa hade berätta för mej om hennes vackra vän.”

Although she had no idea what Lincoln said, she found herself grinning even wider. Something told her she was having the same effect on him as he was on her, and the thought was both terrifying and comforting.

“Do you live far from here?”

Lincoln fastened the top buttons on his coat, and with practiced ease, looped a scarf around his neck. “Jag måste gå nu. Jag bor precis ner för gatan men jag kommer tillbaks imorgon med mat.”  
  
Octavia reached for the door. She was hit with a sharp gust of frigid air, but the cold didn’t bother her in the slightest. “I hope I see you again.”

“Jag längta tills vi ses imorgon,” Lincoln nearly whispered. He reached a hand up, and Octavia held her breath as he tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. Without another word, Lincoln smiled and left.

Octavia stood in the door, watching this man walk through the snow. She had a sudden urge to see his face once more, so without much thought shouted a loud “bye” into the air.

Lincoln spun around, walking backwards and waved. “Hej då.”

Not wanting to seem like too much of a weirdo, Octavia quickly shut the door, her back colliding with the warm wood. She threw her head up, and the coinciding thump reverberated in the now empty cottage.

Damn it.

This was supposed to be a quiet holiday. A holiday away from drama, and family, and significant others. And here she was, falling at first sight for a man who didn’t even speak English. Octavia felt the anger bubble under her skin and wanting to take it out on someone, reached for her phone.

 **_Octavia_** _: You didn’t tell me Lincoln would be here._

She knew she was being irrational. It was in no way Lexa’s fault she was feeling this way, but feelings always had a funny way of making her behave like a complete fool. She drummed her fingers on the black screen, waiting for it to light up. She didn’t have to wait long.

 **_Lexa_** _: I didn’t know he would be._

 **_Octavia_** _: He was in the house when I got here._

 **_Lexa_** _: I told him to prepare it for a visit. He must not have finished before you arrived. Is there a problem?_

 **_Octavia_** _: No, no problem. Except for the fact that he is just about the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. How could you not have warned me???_

 **_Lexa_** _: Sorry?_

 **_Octavia_** _: He doesn’t speak English._

 **_Lexa_** _: You’re in Sweden. Lots of people don’t speak English.  
_ _I’ve known Lincoln since we were kids. He’s wonderful. He’ll take great care of you and the house. Just relax. Enjoy your vacation!_

Octavia sighed. Her boss was right. She just needed to relax. Rolling her eyes, Octavia determined to just accept her fate and go with it. What’s the worst that could happen?

 **_Octavia_** _: Thanks, boss._

*****

Raven scoffed as the bartender slid her glass towards her. “Come on, man. Pour me a real drink.” She pushed the glass back towards the man with a dangerous look in her eyes.

“If you wanted a double shot of whiskey, you should have just ordered a double shot of whiskey,” he retorted without missing a beat.

“I like ordering a whiskey and coke. Makes me seem like less of an alcoholic.” Raven waved her hand lazily towards the full glass but stopped her gesture when she caught the look the bartender was throwing her. She huffed and with a generous roll of her eyes continued. “It’s just a figure of speech. I’m not an alcoholic. I just need to drown myself in self-pity and booze for a night, okay?”

The bartender visibly relaxed, clearly relieved that he didn’t appear to have to worry about feeding an addict their drug of choice for an evening, but he didn’t make a single move to fill the glass with more liquor. “Rough day?”

“Something like that,” Raven relented. She reached for her drink despite it being far weaker than she preferred and took a generous sip. The liquor burned as it slid down her throat, the physical pain a welcomed relief from her emotional one.

“Care to share?”

“Are you really going to be that cliché bartender right now?” Raven tilted her head to the side, glaring at the man. “Gonna throw a towel over your shoulder, lean down on your elbows, nod every once in a while while I spill my sad little story? And then when I finish you’ll look pensive while you wipe down a non-existent mess and offer up some sagely advice that is so simple I’ll be shaking my head as to how I didn’t think of that before?”

The bartender dramatically pulled the towel from beneath the bar and flipped it over his shoulder. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the bar top and a devilishly smug grin on his face. “Apparently so.”

“Fine,” Raven bit out. She glared directly into the man’s eyes with the most intimidating expression she could muster. He didn’t waver, a trait Raven admired. He just met her glare with his own impressive impassiveness, and at that moment, Raven decided that maybe it would do her some good to tell someone about her piece of shit day. She glanced down, finding the obnoxious name tag pinned to his equally as obnoxious collared shirt. “Murphy,” she read aloud. “I caught my boyfriend of five years fucking the blonde, blue-eyed girl next door.”

“Bummer,” he nodded with a tiny shrug. Raven blinked. That was not the reaction she was expecting. She expected him to offer some sort of condolences, outrage maybe, but not a barely there shrug. The tiny act actually was exactly what she needed. She didn’t need some grand pity party thrown in her honor. She was more than capable of doing that internally.

“Yeah, it kinda was,” Raven nodded as she took another gulp of her whiskey and coke. A shrill ping echoed in the nearly empty bar, startling her. She scowled at Murphy as the noise repeated two more times. “Are you going to get that?”

“Nah,” Murphy dismissed. “It’s just my friend.”

Another ping. “Pretty persistent friend.”

Murphy shrugged again and pulled the towel from his shoulder. He gave a tiny wink as he began to wipe down the already impeccably clean bar. “He wants to celebrate our newly single statuses.”

“You don’t want to?” Raven asked, surprisingly actually interested in this bartender’s story.

Murphy paused his ministrations for just a moment. He kept his head down, not daring to look Raven in the face. “I didn’t want to be dumped. So, no, I don’t want to celebrate.”

“What did you do?” Raven prodded. “And if you say you cheated on her, I swear to god, I am going to make this bar go boom and blame it on you. And just so you know, I’m the most convincing liar you’ll ever meet.”

“Relax,” Murphy drawled. “I didn’t cheat on her. I was just my charming asshole self. She had enough, I guess.”

Raven nodded but couldn't miss the melancholy dripping from Murphy’s monotone delivery. She watched the slight downturn of his eyes, the way his shoulders dropped in defeat. She didn’t miss the water gathered in his eyes nor the giant heave of his chest. “You love her, don’t you?”

“I do,” Murphy confirmed instantly.

“Does she love you?”

“I thought she did.”

Raven raised her glass in a salute. “Maybe you’ll get a Christmas miracle.” She finished her drink in a single gulp, slamming her glass down with a little more gusto than she intended. She nearly cringed at the almost violent display, but she was saved by a ping of her own.

Murphy gestured towards the phone currently lying face down on the bar. “Are you going to get that?”

“Nah,” Raven smirked as her phone trilled again. “It’s just my friend.”

“You have a persistent friend too.”

“She just wants to know when we’re going to set all that dickweed’s stuff on fire,” Raven shrugged, twirling the ice cubes around her disappointingly still empty glass.

“You’re a bit of a pyromaniac. You know that, right?”

“Fire is pretty,” Raven merely shrugged. She whipped her head to the side as the entrance bell rang. A couple sauntered in, giggling into each other’s arms. Raven did everything in her power to not scoff at the disgustingly cute pair.

“Hey,” Murphy tapped the bar in front of her, gaining her attention. “He’s an asshole. You’re worth ten of whoever the fuck you ex is.”

“And there it is,” Raven sighed. “Thanks for that sentiment, Captain Obvious.”

“Anytime, Major Buzzkill,” Murphy saluted before making his way down the bar to the still giggling couple.

“Like you were having a good day before I came in here!” Raven couldn’t help but shout at his back.

Murphy turned, mid-stride. “Text your friend back. Tell her to come get your ass out of my bar.”

Raven, in all her wisdom, could not come up with a retort quickly enough and decided that an enthusiastic middle finger would have to suffice. Murphy chuckled at her gesture before turning back towards his other patrons.

Raven stared at the back of her phone for a moment before deciding that, yeah, she should probably answer all her unread messages.

 _ **Clarke** : I just got your message. You okay?_  
_Where are you?_  
_Is it time to set some shit on fire?_  
_I’m going to send out a search party if you don’t answer soon._  
_Seriously, where are you???_  
_Raven! I’m 2 seconds away from calling the cops._

 **_Raven_** _: Calm down, Griff. I’m at a bar._

 **_Clarke_** _: Which one?_

 **_Raven_** _: The one down the street from Lexa’s office._

 **_Clarke_** _: I’ll be there in 15._

Raven let the corner of her mouth upturn slightly. She may have been experiencing one of the worst days of her life, but she would never be anything other than grateful for that best friend of hers. She almost let that upturn turn into a full smile when a sudden thought had her rolling her eyes and scowling.

Of course Clarke knew exactly which bar Raven was at without her specifying. She just shook her head. Clarke Griffin had it so bad for Lexa Woods.


	2. Chapter 2

**3 Weeks Until Christmas**

“Come on and let it show…” Clarke finished the last note with a satisfied smirk. She looked to her left to find Monty with an equally satisfied, if not slightly sheepish, grin of his own. “That one was a keeper.”

Monty nodded fervently in that little way he always did. So enthusiastic, but so timid at the same time. He was one of those musicians who didn’t realize how good they actually were. “Definitely,” he grinned at her.

Clarke snapped her head towards the window as that telltale little pop echoed into the room. Her eyes found her manager with an eager smile on his face. “Well done, Clarke! That one sounded great!”

“That felt really good,” she grinned back. There was no way she could deny the atmosphere of the room. Everyone knew the track was gold from the beginning, her uncle proved that, but with her new arrangement and the harmonies she and Monty were throwing down, the song sounded fresh and new and ready for this generation.

“You’re uncle will be proud. So proud. I know I’m proud,” Wells affirmed. Clarke grew up with the song. Hell, she’d been belting it since she was fifteen, but it was a dream come true to have the opportunity to cover it for real. And she really did just want to make her family proud.

Clarke stood from her stool and stretched out her legs and arms. “Thanks. I don’t know about you all, but I could use some caffeine. Tea break?”

Monty groaned as he mimicked her movements. “Yes, please!”

She chuckled at his dramatics as she made her way into the booth, gathering her coat and purse as she went. “Text me your orders. I’m going to walk to that little shop down the road.”

Clarke had her hand on the doorknob, ready to leave and just take a moment when she heard the engineer, Dick or Wick or something like that, shout out to her. “We have interns for that.”

She turned, hand still on the door. “I’d like to walk around a little, stretch my legs. The fresh air will do me good,” she said with a nod.

“How about some company?”

Clarke felt a warm hand on her shoulder, a familiar feeling. She turned to face her longtime friend turned manager. “Maybe next time? I just want to take a break. Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Wells shook his head. He instantly dropped his hand from her shoulder and took a quick step backwards. “Yes, of course it’s alright. Take a break. You deserve it. Really, Clarke. This is sounding fantastic. Not that you don’t always sound fantastic, it’s just extra good. This time. With the holiday cheer, and all that...” Wells finished his profound ramble and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

Clarke did the best she could to keep herself from laughing at her suddenly awkward friend. She bit her lip and was able to choke out a simple, “Text me your orders, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She hastily opened the door and just as it was closing behind her, she heard the sound of a hand patting a back forcefully and Monty’s quiet voice, “Real smooth there, Wells.”

Clarke strode out of the studio with her head held high, taking in a deep breath. The cool air had that distinct scent of winter. It smelled sharp and fresh, and she knew snow would be on the way soon. Her feet carried her towards the coffee shop without much thought, and she found herself reaching into her bag and pulling out her phone.

She had a few missed phone calls, a few texts from Raven, but there was one in particular that she immediately swiped open.

 **_Mom_ ** _: Call me. We need to talk about Christmas._

Ah, yes, the annual Griffin/Kane family Christmas. Clarke was expected to make an appearance, and she would. She always did. She just really didn’t have the time to call her mother today. If she called, Abby would no doubt want a full update on her (lack of a) career, her love life, her shortage of children at the ripe old age of thirty... Clarke just huffed and decided that now was not the time to get into all that.

 **_Clarke_ ** _: Can’t talk today. Recording the song_

 **_Mom_ ** _: I didn’t know you were still doing that._

Clarke gripped her phone with the force of a great typhoon (wasn’t that just a great lyric? Really, the metaphor there was spot on), and she shook her head. Abby didn’t approve of her choice to switch majors sophomore year, and it would appear she still hadn’t gotten over it.

Clarke mulled over her mother’s disapproval the rest of the way to the shop. Luckily the line was nonexistent, and she walked straight up to the counter to place her usual order. “London Fog, please.”

“Sweetened with honey instead of sugar.”

Clarke turned with a grin on her face to find Lexa standing behind her, smirking at the barista as she correctly finished giving Clarke’s order. “Fancy meeting you here.” Clarke’s body instantly warmed as Lexa closed the remaining distance between them and wrapped her long strong arms around Clarke. All thoughts of Abby and her disapproval vanished into thin air as Clarke turned back around to the patiently waiting barista. “She’ll have a boring plain earl grey.”

“Not everyone enjoys overly sweetened tea, Clarke,” Lexa tsked as she pulled her wallet from her purse. “Earl grey is anything but boring.”

Clarke merely placed her hand on Lexa’s, stopping her from removing her credit card. She handed a few bills to the barista and deposited the change in the tip jar. “My treat.”

The corner of Lexa’s mouth did that little upturn thing that wasn’t a full-on smile, but it always seemed to drive Clarke crazy nonetheless. She followed Lexa blindly to a table tucked in the corner and sat across from the impeccably dressed and always stunning woman. Clarke had to force her mind to actually pay attention to the words leaving Lexa’s mouth, she looked _that_ good in the dark dress pants and collared shirt that was unbuttoned tastefully to show off a perfect amount of skin. “How’s the recording going?”

Clarke took only a fraction of a second longer than normal to respond, but it was enough of a pause for Lexa to smirk at her. Clarke, in her slightly flustered state, exclaimed a little too loudly, “Omigod! So well!”

“Yeah?” Lexa chuckled but her eyes showed genuine pride and interest.

“Yeah,” Clarke nodded, finally composing herself. “Monty and I are back at it. We hit that perfect sync again, and the harmonies were just velvety. Like chocolate cake.”

“I don’t really know how vocals can sound like chocolate cake, but it sounds delicious.”

“Oh, I always am,” Clarke winked, happy to be back to her usual state of confidence around Lexa.

Lexa just shook her head. “I bet.” She was about to open her mouth, to speak again, but her reply was cut off as the barista called her name. Lexa stood quickly and motioned for Clarke to stay, and Clarke just watched as Lexa made the short walk to the counter look like some sort of god damn runway-worthy saunter. Lexa returned not a minute later and slid Clarke’s tea over towards her.

Clarke took a small sip and hummed in appreciation as the creamy tea slid delicately down her throat. She smiled over her cup, “How’s work?”

Lexa just shrugged as she sipped her tea gracefully. “Busy. I gave Anya the afternoon off. She and Aden are having a Christmasy evening, or so I’m told.”

“You’re a very sweet boss and sister.”

“It’s the least I can do. She was always there for me when we were children. I’m happy to give her some time with her son. The holidays can be hard for everyone.”

Clarke reached her hand across the table and placed it over Lexa’s. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Most of the time,” she nodded.

“I’ll be sure to remind you when you don’t remember then.”

Clarke felt Lexa physically sigh and found herself getting lost in the soft smile in those green eyes. They both held each other's gaze for a moment longer as if they were terrified they’d never get here again. But moments were always just that, and theirs was gone the instant the shop bell chimed as another patron entered for their afternoon caffeine fix.

Lexa withdrew her hand gently and wrapped it around her steaming cup of tea. “So how much longer do you have in the studio today?”

“Oh, geez,” Clarke shook her head. “Probably all night. We only booked it for today, so everything needs to be perfect before we leave.”

“Only today? I thought you wanted at least two days?”

“I did. But they were booked solid. We were lucky to get today. I just want it to be great. It has to be great. I don’t want to let anyone down.” Clarke began to internally panic again, despite how well the session had already gone. She always carried that seed of doubt with her, that maybe she wasn’t good enough, that her mother was right, that she’d always be chasing this dream and never live in it.

“You already are exceptional, Clarke.”

Clarke smiled brightly at the woman in front of her. She couldn’t help it as memories from over a decade ago flooded her mind. “You’ve been saying that for twelve years.”

“Twelve years, huh?” Lexa mused with a sly smirk on her face.

“Since the day I met you,” Clarke nodded. “You came up to me after I sang at that open mic night in The Burrow freshman year. You said, and I quote, ‘That cover was better than the original. You are exceptionally talented.’”

Lexa covered her face with both hands, her eyes barely peeking out from between her fingers. “Then you informed me that what you just sang was not a cover; it was actually an original song. And I don’t think I had ever felt more embarrassed in my entire life.”

Clarke laughed out loud. “You turned about five shades of red. I thought it was incredibly adorable.”

“You did?” Lexa exclaimed as she dropped her hands from her face. “You never told me that.”

Clarke hummed. “I saw you in the audience, watching. You could have said just about anything, and I would have thought it was incredibly adorable.”

“How am I just now finding out about this?”

Clarke crooked her head to the side and shrugged her shoulders. “What does it matter?”

“I…” Lexa faltered, and Clarke could practically see the war wage in her head as she tried to find a reason as to how that little piece of information could have changed history. With a raise of her eyebrows, Lexa finally admitted, “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“You practically ran away right after that.”

“You seemed busy,” Lexa stated firmly over her mug of tea. Clarke caught the hardness that suddenly swept over Lexa’s face and nearly startled at the drastic change.

“What?”

“Finn,” Lexa bit out through clenched teeth. “He came up and kissed you.”

“Ugh, Finn…” Clarke groaned. She narrowed her eyes, and she knew her face was doing that grumpy cat thing.

“I thought you two were on good terms now,” Lexa puzzled. “He’s been dating your best friend for years.”

“You haven’t heard?” Clarke practically slammed her hands through the table, and Lexa sat fully upright at the sound.

“What?” she startled.

“Raven caught him with their neighbor,” Clarke stated as succinctly as possible.

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. God, can’t you just fire that asshole,” Clarke groaned. “It was bad enough knowing that he worked for you after we broke up, but now… Ugh, I don’t think I’ll be able to even see him and not dick punch him on sight.”

That made Lexa laugh, and Clarke smiled in return. There was nothing more contagious than that sound. “Do I need to hire special security for when you come to see me in the office?”

“You think I come to see you often enough for special security?”

“I mean… sometimes,” a suddenly frazzled Lexa murmured. “You stopped by randomly last week. And we still haven’t rescheduled that lunch. And I mean, I… your visits help break up my occasionally hectic and mundane days. You’re welcome to stop by more often, actually.”

“You could just fire Finn.”

“What?” Lexa blinked.

“Instead of hiring special security for me. Firing that cheating piss poor excuse for a human being would be way more economical,” Clarke finished matter-of-factly. “And then maybe I’d come around more often.”

Lexa nodded as if she was seriously considering Clarke’s argument. “Ethically, I don’t think I could do that, but morally-”

Lexa’s phone suddenly sprung to life, vibrating violently on the wooden table. She flipped it over, and Clarke watched as Lexa’s shoulders fell at the sight of the caller id. “Damn it. It’s Marcus. One second,” Lexa put up a long delicate finger and swiped open the call. “Woods. I told you that he would. No, no. Keep him there. I’ll be back in just a few minutes. It’s fine. Thank you, Marcus.”

Lexa ended the call quickly and pocketed her phone with a heavy sigh.

“You have to go?”

“I do,” Lexa lamented. “I apologize.”

“I should be getting back too. Everyone is going to be pissed if they don’t get their coffee soon.” With that, both Lexa and Clarke rose from their comfortable seats and walked side by side out of the coffee shop and into the chilled afternoon air. They strode to the corner and paused knowing this was where they turned their separate ways.

Lexa spoke first. “I can’t wait to hear your finished song. I know it’s going to be fantastic.”

“You’ve always been my biggest fan,” Clarke teased.

“Easy to be when you’re the best damn musician I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing.”

“So smooth, Woods,” Clarke grinned as a pale blush settled on her cheeks. “Where was that game when we first met?”

“Hiding under a rock, cowering from the utter beauty before her,” Lexa stated without missing a beat.

Clarke chuckled and shook her head. “Sometimes, I can’t figure out if you’re being sincere or sarcastic.”

With a devilish wink, Lexa answered cooly. “I’m happy to keep that mystery alive.”

“You see?” Clarke reached up and gave Lexa a playful little shove to the shoulder. “Right there! Are you flirting or just being an ass?”

With an impressively aloof face that just drove Clarke even crazier, Lexa merely asked, “Which would you prefer?”

Clarke stood there like an idiot, completely unable to respond. She froze in place as Lexa leaned forward slowly. She brushed her warm lips against Clarke’s cool cheek, lingering for a moment to whisper, “I’ll see you later, Clarke.” Lexa placed a quick kiss to her cheek that left her skin burning, and without another word, turned and walked back towards her office.

*****

Octavia gently placed the book down on the arm of the sofa, careful to keep her place, and threw the blanket off. She strode to the front door with a smile on her face. There was only one person who knocked on the cottage door, and the thought of that handsome Swedish man had her heart racing.

“What are you doing here?” she asked futilely as the door swung open to reveal a grinning Lincoln dressed in what she considered far too few clothes for such a cold day.

“[Jag tänkte att vi kunde åka skidor idag. Det är inte så kallt ute och då kunde vi se hur vacker sjön är.](https://eris223.tumblr.com/post/181245648809/linctavia-translations-for-love-actually-is)”

He held out the equipment in his hands, and Octavia leaned forward to get a closer look.

“Are those skis? It’s way too cold to ski.” Octavia stepped to the side to allow enough room for Lincoln to enter the home. Octavia closed the door and nearly bumped into the man as her phone buzzed in her pocket, startling her. Lincoln’s strong arm shot out, steadying her before she toppled embarrassingly to the ground.

Once he seemed convinced Octavia was on solid feet, he released her and smiled again, gesturing to the skis in his other hand.

“Även om jag är saker att det inte håller ett ljus på hur vacker du är.”

“God, when you look at me like that, how can I say no?” Octavia laughed at her own lack of conviction. “Just give me a minute to change,” she gestured at her clothes before pointing upstairs towards the bedroom.

She paused for a moment to make sure he understood that she was not about to abandon him. Lincoln just gave her that winning smirk of his, which she gladly returned before making her way up the stairs. About halfway up, she remembered the cause of her near embarrassing situation, and reached into her back pocket for her phone.

 **_Raven_ ** _: How’s your Christmas prince?_

 **_Octavia_ ** _: He’s not a prince. And he’s not mine. He wants to go skiing._

 **_Raven_ ** _: Not yet he isn’t. I have faith in you._ _  
_ _And skiing? What? You’ve never been skiing._

 **_Octavia_ ** _: Where is this optimism coming from? Shouldn’t you be rightfully hating the world right now?_ _  
_ _And I know I haven’t been skiing._

 **_Raven_ ** _: Oh, I do hate the world. I’m just happily drunk on wine and chocolate at the moment_

 **_Octavia_ ** _: I love you, Ray_

 **_Raven_ ** _: Shut up. Go skiing with your prince. Tell him to take tons of pictures of you when you fall_

Octavia tossed her phone on her bed and quickly changed into something a little more athletic friendly than her flannel pajama pants and oversized sweater. Once changed, she grabbed her heavy coat, gloves, and hat and made her way back downstairs.

Lincoln had made himself comfortable on the couch in her absence, casually playing with his phone while sprawled comfortably on the couch. He straightened immediately at her approach and stood as Octavia closed the distance. She opened her arms, showing off her change of clothes, waiting for approval.

Lincoln smirked and took her jacket from her. She followed him as he opened a skinny door in the hallway. His head disappeared in the closet, and when he returned, he was holding a sweatshirt that must have belonged to Lexa. Octavia took it, her fingers brushing against Lincoln’s as she did, sending a jolt up her arm. She quickly pulled over the garment, desperate to hide her pink cheeks.

As she pulled her head through the neck, she caught Lincoln staring. He bashfully turned around, busying himself in the closet. When Octavia had the sweatshirt properly situated, she was met with a pair of boots in her face. Another item that must have belonged to Lexa. Luckily, they seemed to be the same size. She strapped her boots on and took the offered headband and sunglasses Lincoln held for her.

Octavia followed Lincoln outside and watched meticulously as he snapped the toe of his boots into the ski. “I’ve never skied before. Is it hard?” she asked as she copied his movements. He handed her a pair of poles and with a grin, slid off towards the treeline.

Octavia quickly bent her knees and mimicked the smooth strides Lincoln expertly showed her.

“Längdåkning är svår men du kommer att lära dej fort.”

Octavia dug her poles into the fresh snow and pushed off, easily catching up to Lincoln. “Okay, okay, I got this. This isn’t so bad,” she muttered to herself. After a few minutes of gliding along, she felt comfortable enough to finally take in her surroundings. The not quite dense but not quite sparse woods sprawled in front of her, the trees all shrouded with a soft layer of white. The frozen lake to her right beautifully reflected the delicate winter sun, and she smiled at the sight, silently thanking Lexa for being, pretty much, the best boss in the world.

“Gå inte för fort annars kommer armar att tröttna.”

Octavia was pulled from her thoughts by Lincoln’s deep voice, and the sudden interruption had her mind quickly catching up to her body. Her arms burned with each stroke and pull into the snow, and she cursed herself for not spending more time on her upper body at the gym.

“Good god, my arms are tired!”

After a few more painful minutes, Octavia began to slow. As fit as she was, nordic skiing was completely foreign to her. Her body protested each movement and the once serene scenery began to feel like its beauty mocked her with each slide of her skis. Lincoln slowed down, matching her increasingly leisurely pace.

“Vad du en gör, tar inte av dej skidorna.”

“Walking would be easier than this,” Octavia groaned, ready to give up on the whole skiing thing. She slid to a stop and pressed her pole to the release button. Her boot clicked out of its latch, and just as she placed her foot on the soft snow, her leg sunk three feet down. The powdery snow engulfed her body so quickly she didn’t know what to do.

“Shit!”

Octavia flailed her arms uselessly, desperate to catch hold of something, but the more she thrashed about, the further she sank into the soft snow. “Shit. Shit. Fuck. I’m making this worse. What is this? The quicksand of snow? Shit.”

“Jag sa att du inte skulle göra det.”

“I should not have taken off my skis,” Octavia groaned, mortified by her current predicament. The leg still attached to the ski was laid awkwardly on the top of the snow while her entire body and other leg were trapped helplessly in the snow. She huffed and stilled as Lincoln finally slid into view.

She wanted to scowl, to hide behind a tree maybe, but when she caught sight of that man grinning and chuckling, well, she couldn’t help but join him. He reached down for her ski poles, crossed them, and laid them atop the snow. He motioned for her to push against the spot where they crossed, and the extra surface area the x provided easily had her rising from her snowy tomb. When she was more or less on top of the snow, Lincoln wrapped a strong hand around her arm and pulled her to her feet.

“Kom an du tar vi oss hem.”

The trek back to the cottage was thankfully quiet but increasingly cold. The snow that had covered her in the fall had melted with her body heat, and her now soaking clothes were providing little relief from the frigid air.

Once inside the warm house, Octavia made a beeline for her room and instantly stripped off the wet clothing and redressed in her flannel pajamas and sweater. She held an arm protectively around her as she grabbed for her phone.

 **_Raven_ ** _: I feel like you should have already come to this realization, but you can use google translate to talk to your prince_

Octavia growled at her own stupidity for not coming to that conclusion days ago. She pocketed her phone and made her way downstairs. She was met with a roaring fire and a very attractive and sweet man holding out a delectable cup of coffee. Octavia smiled and settled in the little nest Lincoln had built in front of the fireplace and took a sip of the coffee, nearly moaning as the warm liquid heated her chilled bones.

“Thank you for rescuing me today.”

“Jag kan inte tror att jag var tvungen att rädda dej från snön idag. Även små barn vet att inte tar av sej skidorna färsk snö,” he chuckled.

“I’m sure it was flattering to see me flailing like that.”

“Du är aven vacker när du behandlar dej som en idiot.”

Octavia smiled but was suddenly smacked with a violent fit of shivers. Her body was desperate to regulate itself back to an appropriate temperature. Lincoln’s face lit up with clear concern, and Octavia didn’t even have time to think before he was pulling her close to him. “Kom hit. Jag kan värma dej fortare och bättre än elden.”

Octavia relaxed into Lincoln’s warm and safe body, inhaling that scent she’d grown to nearly love in this past week. They sat, snuggled together, silently sipping away at their coffee for what seemed like hours. Octavia was only brought from her bliss by the sudden flicker of the lights.

Octavia sat up and stared at the man now illuminated only by the soft glow of the fire. “Nu gick elen ut. Helt fantastiskt.”

*****

“Come on, Mom. This way.”

Anya rolled her eyes at the young teen waving his hand at her. He was the spitting image of his father, gangly, tall, his light hair brightening his light eyes, and the sight made her smile. “I do know where the produce is, Aden. We’ve been shopping in this store for years.”

“Then why are you dawdling over there?” Aden practically bounced to a stop in front of her, his eyes sparkling with glee. The kid loved Christmas, and Anya hoped he’d never lose that simple pleasure.

“Dawdle?” Anya asked without looking up. She stared at the display in front of her, her hand tracing the red and white package delicately. “What thirteen-year-old boy uses the word dawdle?”

Aden tossed a bag of red and green M&Ms into the cart without missing a beat. “A thirteen-year-old boy who spends way too much time with his aunt who often converses with an overly formal speech pattern.”

“Lexa?” Anya turned towards her son and was met with a beautifully deadpan expression.

“Do you have any other sisters that I don’t know about?”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “When did you get so snarky?”

“I’ve always been snarky. You just usually over snark me so my snarkiness gets downplayed.” Aden shrugged and waltzed over to the display Anya was still standing in front of. He reached around his mother, grabbed the package of peppermint bark, and tossed it unceremoniously into the cart.

“What are you doing?”

“They’re your favorite,” Aden nodded. “Treat yo’ self, Mom. It’s our Christmasy night.”

Anya fought to contain the wide grin threatening to burst across her face. She raised a fine human being. Aden was the perfect living memorial to his father. “Grab those candy canes, will you?” Anya motioned to the top shelf behind him.

“Do we need anything else from this aisle, or can we go to the produce section now?”

“Let’s go, kiddo,” Anya chuckled. “Wouldn’t want one of the three people standing over there to grab the perfect orange before you.”

Aden scoffed but happily began to make his way to the other side of the store. “You know what happened last year! I won’t let it happen again.”

Anya trailed behind her son, happy to watch and revel in his excitement. He made his way to the large pile of oranges and proceeded to pick up each one, roll it in his hands, and give it a firm squeeze before placing it down. If there was a method to his madness, she couldn’t decipher it. After a few minutes, she brought her cart up to him. “So, did we make it in time? Have you found the perfect orange?”

“I found three,” he grinned as he held up his prized citrus.

“There’s just the two of us.”

Aden rolled his eyes so dramatically, Anya was sure she needed to sign him up for drama class immediately. “I know, Mom. Your lack of a love life is dismally apparent.”

Anya glared at Aden in a way that would have lesser human beings cowering in the corner, but Aden, used to the intensity Anya often exuded, just smiled. She shook her head and guided the cart past him to the checkout counter. “I really need to get you away from Lexa.”

“Have fun with that,” Aden grinned. He leaned into the cart, emptying its contents on the belt. “She’s coming over for dinner tonight.”

“I thought you just wanted it to be the two of us?” Anya asked him. The cashier rung up the final item, and Aden reached for the bags before Anya could even lift her arm.

“I did, but she’s kinda sad so I invited her over.”

They made their way to the parking lot silently and loaded their groceries quickly. When they were a good distance from the store, Anya broke the comfortable quiet. “So when did you talk to Lexa today?”

“I called her on my way home from school. You both really need to sort out your love situations. It’s Christmas.”

Anya gifted Aden with an impressive side-eye. “And what about you, apparent Master of Love?”

“I’m thirteen,” Aden stated plainly. “I have my whole life to sort out my love situation. You and Lexa on the other hand-”

“Don’t you even think about finishing that statement,” Anya shot at him playfully. She punched his arm and was rewarded with a chuckle as Aden rubbed at his shoulder.

“All I’m saying is that you deserve it. You may think your time has passed, that being a mom is enough for you, but you’re wrong,” Aden’s voice became suddenly sincere, and Anya did her best to pay attention to the road as her son spoke. “You deserve someone who loves you like Dad did. He’d want you to find someone. And if you haven’t dated because you think that I’d disapprove or be scarred or something stupid like that, please don’t. I just want you to be happy. You’ve done so much for me, and I love you for that. But damn, Mom. Date!”

Anya shook her head. How was this kid so wonderful? How did he get so wise? What did she do to deserve a son like this? She just couldn’t believe she got so lucky.

“Did your aunt put you up to this?”

“No! I am completely capable of forming my own personal thoughts, thank you very much,” he scoffed as he exited the car. Anya followed suit and hadn’t even shut her car door when she heard a familiar voice echo across her lawn.

“Hey, buddy!”

Lexa stood with open arms, and Aden casually made his way over to her. She wrapped him up tightly, and Anya couldn’t help but smile at the sight. As surly and jaded as she was due to life’s general unkindness towards her, she melted every time she saw her family interact. It was all she had to hold on to.

Lexa released Aden, and the pair made their way into the modest house, leaving Anya to grab the groceries. Once inside, she deposited her keys in the bowl near the door and made her way to the kitchen where Lexa and Aden were already enjoying the Christmas crackers she’d made earlier.

“What? No hello hug for your favorite sister?”

Lexa pointed at her with a handful of crackers. “You are my only sister.”

“My statement stands,” Anya challenged.

Lexa relented easily and made her way over. She gave Anya a quick kiss on the cheek followed by a soft hug. “Hey, Anya. Thank you for allowing me to have dinner with you this evening. I know it was supposed to be just you and Aden tonight.”

Anya smirked and held out half the bags for Lexa. “Anytime, little sis.” They made their way back into the kitchen and had just deposited the bags when Aden quickly rummaged through one and pulled out his prized produce.

“Check these out!”

Lexa’s face lit up with as much glee as her son’s as she took one of the oranges in her hand. “Oh, these are exquisite. You have really outdone yourself this year, Aden. I’ve never seen three oranges as perfect as these.”

Anya rolled her eyes. “Not you too.”

“Everyone knows that you have to find the perfect orange to enjoy it properly,” Lexa scolded her. She began to roll the fruit across the counter, pressing firmly. After giving it a little squeeze, she tossed the orange to Aden. “Not too fresh, but not overly ripe. You need the juices just right.”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Aden. He pulled out a candy cane and snapped the curve off in a single fluid motion. He jammed the stick into the orange and brought the now candy straw to his lips. “Otherwise, you won’t be able to suck enough through the candy cane.”

“Now quit dawdling by the counter over there,” Lexa called out, tossing a rolled orange to Anya. “We have a tradition to uphold.”

Aden grinned at his mother with a look that clearly screamed ‘I told you Lexa talks like that,’ and she just shook her head. Maybe she did need to monitor how much time he was spending with his loving aunt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Two Weeks Until Christmas**

 

Lexa kept her head down, completely focused on the report in front of her. She was so one-track minded that she didn’t even hear the soft knock on her office door. 

“What are you doing?”

Lexa didn’t even bother to look up from her desk. She knew the voice that called to her, and she knew he wouldn’t take offense to her lack of manners. “Working,” she stated plainly, turning the page in front of her.

“It’s late,” he chuckled. She could hear his boots clack on the wooden floor as he approached her desk, and she finally looked up as he leaned up against the side. “Why are you still working?”

“Probably for the same reason you are still here, Marcus.”

“Yes, but you see,” he grinned as he crossed his arms. “I’m heading out now. And you should too.”

Lexa sighed and leaned back in her chair. “There’s still so much to finish before Christmas.”

“It’s nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Why are you so concerned about me?” Lexa narrowed her eyes at her second in command and crossed her arms, mirroring Marcus’s posture. 

He just gave her that pointed dad look he’d perfected so well, and she fought to not huff at the gesture. “Clarke is playing at the bar tonight.” 

“I know,” Lexa answered a little too quickly. She was well aware that Clarke was performing with Monty at the bar down the street. Clarke had informed her several times over the past few days of that fact. It was the first time she was due to perform her new cover, and Clarke had been anxiously awaiting the day. Lexa wanted to be there to support her, so badly, but work was hectic, and Clarke knew that.

“Lexa,” Marcus called to her, and Lexa shook her head, bringing herself back into the present. By the look on Marcus’s face, she had gone to the Clarke Zone, at least that’s what Anya called it. It was that dreamy sort of place that softened her features and gave her a dazed look and made it infinitely more difficult to concentrate on even the smallest of things. She shook her head once more for good measure before meeting Marcus’s gaze.  “How long have you known Clarke?” he asked curiously.

“Twelve years, two months, three days, and...” Lexa turned her wrist towards her, glancing at the face of her watch. Doing impressively quick math, she swiftly finished. “Twenty-three hours.”

“And how long have you been in love with her?”

Lexa could feel her cheeks burn at the brutally honest answer she was about to give.“Twelve years, two months, three days, and I suppose twenty-two hours and forty-five minutes.”

“I figured as much. So why are you up here, working on something that can be finished tomorrow, and not down there, supporting the woman you love as she performs her song for the first time?”

“I…” Lexa sighed heavily, her whole body moving with the act. She could not think of a single reason as to why she wasn’t down at that bar. Her hesitation was enough for Marcus to smile and stand straight with his victory. 

“Come on, boss. Let’s get a Christmas drink. On me.”

“Okay,” Lexa finally relented. “But if we fall behind tomorrow, you’re staying late with me.”

“Excellent!” Marcus clapped his hands together and grandly motioned for Lexa to lead the way. With only a slight roll of her eyes, Lexa gathered her coat and purse before flicking off her office lamp. 

The short walk to the bar was pleasantly filled with chatter as Marcus regaled Lexa with all his plans for the annual Griffin/Kane family Christmas. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Lexa soon found herself grinning and laughing along with his increasingly far-fetched and grandiose ideas. 

“Ah,” Marcus said suddenly, reaching around Lexa for the door. “Here we are.”

The warmth of the tastefully decorated neighborhood pub engulfed Lexa’s slightly chilled body. Her eyes immediately scanned the room, searching for any sign of the one woman she was so eager to see. “What can I get you?”

Lexa’s head whipped back to Marcus to find him gesturing at an open table. “Something festive,” she replied with a thankful smirk. She had just settled at the table when a body slumped into the empty chair next to her.

“Lexa! You made it!” Wells shouted over the chatter of the bar. He sipped his drink, eyeing her cautiously.

“Marcus made sure I wouldn’t miss it.”

“I know Clarke will be happy to see you,” Wells nodded. Lexa felt her cheeks warm as an awkward silence fell over the table. She found herself craning her neck in search of Marcus and their drinks, desperate for someone to relieve the sudden tension. Wells apparently felt it too and leaned over to her. “I hear you’re the reason we didn’t get our coffee the other day.”

“Pardon?”

Wells chuckled at Lexa’s bewildered face. “Clarke,” he clarified. “She said she ran into you at the coffee shop. She was supposed to grab drinks for everyone, but you distracted her.”

Lexa nodded her head at the memory. She did remember Clarke mentioning that she needed to get back before everyone got angsty from their lack of caffeine. Lexa had just been too distracted by the happy coincidence of seeing her to pay much attention as to why Clarke was there.

“Well, if she needs a scapegoat, I’ll happily jump into the fire for her.”

“So would I…” Wells murmured just above a whisper. Lexa lowered her chin dangerously as an overwhelming bout of possessiveness coursed through her body. She should be the one willing to sacrifice for Clarke, not him. She opened her mouth to tell him off, challenge him maybe, but she was saved from her annoying jealousy when the house lights suddenly dimmed.

Lexa immediately trained her eyes on the small stage, and Clarke walked gracefully into the spotlight, guitar in hand. Lexa’s body immediately relaxed at the sight, and an inexplicable shiver ran up her spine as Clarke’s gaze found hers. Clarke grinned broadly and gave her a barely there wink before pulling the microphone close.

“Hey everybody! I see a lot of familiar faces out there tonight, so to you, thanks for coming back. And for all those I don’t recognize, hi, I’m Clarke Griffin. I play music. Welcome! And now that that awkward introduction is over, I guess I’ll get to it.”

Clarke started her set with one of her original songs that had Lexa’s heart in her throat. It was the song she performed that night twelve years ago. The night Lexa finally worked up the courage to actually talk to the woman she’d been watching sing for the previous two months. Lexa’s heart stopped when Clarke caught her gaze once again. The whole room ceased to exist at that moment. It was just Lexa and the woman she loved. She held on for all it was worth, and when Clarke sang the final note and strummed that last chord, Lexa sighed softly as the world came crashing back into focus.

Marcus, who Lexa didn’t even see return, placed a soothing hand on her shoulder as if he knew the meaning behind the song. She smiled warmly at him, thanking him silently for convincing her to come tonight. She had been a fool to think she could miss this. Nothing in the world was more important to her than that woman up on stage currently singing beautifully, and gifting all these people with her heart and soul.

Lexa spent the remainder of the set gently sipping her mulled wine, utterly transfixed on the performance. When Clarke finished another song and didn’t immediately transition to the next, Lexa sat up straighter. Clarke glanced off to the side of the stage and nodded. Monty made his way to the center, dragging a stool in one hand, his guitar in the other. Clarke addressed her audience with a smile that Lexa could see right through. There was fear behind those blue eyes, and Lexa wanted nothing more than to run up on that stage and give Clarke a reassuring hug. But she didn’t. She just trained her eyes on that lovely face and attempted to say without words how perfect and talented Clarke was. Clarke unfortunately, seemed too nervous to even glance in her direction.

“As I’m sure a lot of you know, I recently recorded a Christmas song with my dear friend Monty. This one has been near and dear to me since I was a teenager, and those who know me, know why. To those who don’t, sorry, some mysteries are meant to be just that. But I hope you enjoy our cover of “Christmas Is All Around.”

With a little nod, Clarke and Monty started the song in unison, and it didn’t take long before Lexa noticed the smiles throughout the bar. It seemed as if every patron was enraptured by the joyful Christmas classic, and several were singing along with the chorus. She felt a burst of pride explode in her chest and as the song ended, she jumped to her feet and made damn sure her claps and cheers were the loudest in the bar.

Clarke and Monty gracefully thanked their audience and exited the stage. The house lights brightened, and before Lexa could make her way to where she saw Clarke disappear, she was hit with a force that had her stumbling backwards. Quickly regaining her balance, Lexa returned the embrace, smiling into those luscious blonde waves.

“Lexa. I didn’t think you’d make it,” Clarke whispered into her ear, and Lexa felt a pang of regret for ever considering work to be more important.

“That was beautiful,” Lexa smiled warmly. “You never cease to blow me away when you sing.” She felt Clarke loosen the iron grip around her neck and take a step backwards. Clarke twirled the little hairs behind her neck around her fingers, and Lexa’s heart hammered against her rib cage. 

“Thank you,” Clarke breathed. She gave Lexa a final little grin before stepping away completely and addressing the others around them. 

“Hey, Marcus. Where’s the wife?”

Lexa watched as Marcus tried to soften the blow as much as humanly possible. “She couldn’t make it tonight. Your mother sends her congratulations though.”

It didn’t take a trained psychologist to pick up on the complete disappointment that washed over Clarke’s body. “I’m sure she does.”

“Clarke,” Lexa cleared her throat, eager to ease that pain, and changed the subject. “How about a drink?”

Clarke gave her a little half smile that spoke volumes. She sighed and happily nodded her head. Lexa gestured for Clarke to lead the way, but before she followed, she gave Marcus a sympathetic little smile. It wasn’t his fault Abby didn’t approve of Clarke’s ambitions. She was damn sure he tried his hardest to get her here if how hard he worked for Lexa to come was any indication.

“So what will it be, ladies?” Echo, the owner, stood before them with her hands resting on the bar top.

Lexa turned to Clarke with a knowing little smirk. “Mulled wine?”

She didn’t really have to wait for Clarke’s eager “oh, yes, please,” to know that was going to be her order. Echo made the best damn mulled wine, and she only stocked it in December. Whenever Clarke and Lexa indulged in a drink here during that time, they always made sure to order it.

“Two mulled wines, please,” Lexa ordered before turning her body back towards Clarke. They were just like magnets, always pulling towards one another.

“You can’t have the mulled wine.”

Lexa glared at Echo with a fire hotter than three suns. “What? Why not?”

Echo just smirked and crossed her arms. “It’s a Christmas drink, and you aren’t abiding by the Christmas rules.”

“What Christmas rules?” Lexa blinked back, absolutely bewildered. Echo lifted her chin in the air, her eyes landing on something above Clarke’s head. Lexa followed her gaze until she caught sight of the little bundle of greenery. “You know mistletoe wasn’t even a Christmas tradition at first. In Norse mythology-”

“Would you just shut up and kiss her, so I can pour your mulled wine please?”

Lexa would have loved to argue, to snap out a witty comeback, but the little giggle that left Clarke’s mouth had her full attention. Clarke was looking at her with desire and passion, and Lexa’s heart instantly raced. Clarke reached up and softly tucked a strand of hair behind Lexa’s ear. Lexa found herself leaning forward into the touch as Clarke did the same. They were close, so close, their lips barely brushed, and Lexa held her breath, ready to eliminate the last offending millimeter.

“Excuse me, Clarke Griffin? I’m-”

Lexa nearly stumbled forward as she chased the lips she craved to taste, but she was a master at keeping her composure. She turned to find the source of the intrusion.

“Bellamy Blake,” she bit out, irritated beyond belief. “I know who you are. Your sister works for me.”

“Lexa Woods?”

Lexa gave a curt nod and worried her jaw as she so often did when she was agitated. Her demeanor was instantly calmed when a warm sensation shot up her arm. She glanced down to find Clarke’s hand wrapped around her forearm, giving her a reassuring little squeeze. Lexa looked up to meet Clarke’s blue eyes and breathed out a calming sigh. With much less hostility than before, Lexa addressed the man. “What can we do for you?”

Bellamy cleared his throat and readjusted his collar, apparently more flustered by Lexa’s display of hostility than she initially realized. She preened a little at that thought as he spoke to Clarke. 

“I saw you perform earlier. Brilliant cover. The rest of your set was phenomenal. I write for Pitchfork, and I was hoping to have a minute of your time, Ms. Griffin.”

Lexa didn’t miss the excitement bristling in Clarke’s body as Bellamy mention Pitchfork. Lexa knew enough about music to realize how important this could potentially be for Clarke, so before she could answer, Lexa spoke up. “I’ll let you two talk. See you later, Clarke?”

Clarke nodded gratefully. And with that, Lexa took in a heavy sigh and walked back towards their table alone.

*****

Octavia glanced around the dim room. The firelight danced in the darkness sending a warm glow over the man settling back down next to her. “So…” she sighed. “I think it’s safe to say the power is out. What does that mean?”

Lincoln grimaced slightly and shook his head with what Octavia could only assume was empathy. “[Synd att du måste uppleva en svensk vinternatt utan värme. Det är inte kul.](https://eris223.tumblr.com/post/181288480769/linctavia-translations-for-love-actually-is)”

Octavia quickly held up her finger indicating for Lincoln to hold that thought and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She hastily found the app she was looking for and typed as quickly as possible. She hit translate and smiled when her words appeared in Swedish. She held up her phone to Lincoln as she hit the speech button, grinning as the robotic voice attempted the Swedish accent. 

“Vad gör vi utan kraft?”

Lincoln smiled bigger than she had ever seen, a sight that was well worth feeling like a fool for not thinking of this sooner. He produced his own phone, and within a minute, another inhuman voice filled the air. 

“It is best to sit near the fire. And it is best to have several layers of clothes.”

Octavia nodded and snuggled up closer to Lincoln. Without a moment of hesitation, he pulled her close, wrapping her in his comfortable heat. She sighed and fisted the soft wool of his sweater, burying her head against his chest. 

Octavia sat there curled up for a moment completely at ease just listening to the calming staccato of Lincoln’s heartbeat. She pulled her phone up once more, typed, and pressed play. “Stannar du med mig? Snälla du?”

Lincoln kissed the top of her head, and Octavia nearly shuddered at the gentle gesture. He didn’t even need to type out his reply. She knew what it was, but Lincoln pressed play regardless. “If you want.” 

“Jag vill.”

Octavia curled herself back into Lincoln, content knowing that he wasn’t going to leave. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced yet, being satisfied to just be in a person’s presence. Sure, she’d dated before, but nothing serious. She had been so focused on her career, on getting to exactly where she wanted to be that she didn’t bother looking for anything. But, that was the funny thing about love. It tended to sneak up on people when they least expected it. And damn, was Lincoln ever unexpected.

With a gentle sigh, Octavia decided, then and there, that she’d just have to take advantage of their current predicament and learn a little more about the man she was helplessly falling for. She pulled up her phone once more, and after a crazy internal war, typed out the winning question. “Vad är din favoritfärg?”

Octavia’s head bounced on Lincoln’s chest as he laughed at the mundane question, but he typed out his answer anyway. “Blue. Huh is your favorite color?”

It was Octavia’s turn to laugh at the slightly butchered translation of his question, but she was just happy to be finally conversing with the man. “Jag gillar också blå.”

They sat in happy silence until another question popped into her mind. “Hur mötte du Lexa?”

Lincoln shifted so his weight leaned against a nearby chair and pulled Octavia even closer. His arms wrapped fully around her body as he held his phone in both hands, typing away quickly. “I was eight years the first time Lexa and her family came and greeted. She was maybe five and Anya was eleven. I was building a snow castle. Little Lexa stormed over and wanted my castle. When I said no, we started a snowball war that was epic.”

Octavia looked up to find a warm smile on Lincoln’s face as he recalled the memory. She didn’t realize how long Lexa had actually known Lincoln. Come to think of it, she wasn’t even sure she knew Lexa had any ties to Sweden before this trip.

“Vad hände sedan?”

Lincoln chuckled again, his laughter a perfect accompaniment to the clicking of his keyboard. “Obviously they won but they were kind conquerors. I had to keep my castle as long as I came when called.”

It took a moment for Octavia to properly translate that in her head, but when she got the gist of it, she sniggered. “Det låter som Lexa.”

Lincoln nodded with a knowing little smirk. He began typing again but suddenly stopped. Octavia felt the muscles in his chest tighten as he uttered a quick “jävlar.” She glanced up and saw a completely black screen in his hand. With the way he tossed his phone to the side, it was easy to assume that he ran out of battery. Octavia simply handed hers over and was rewarded with a quick kiss on her cheek.

She gently caressed the spot his lips graced and waited as he typed his reply. “I looked forward to the summers and at Christmas time after that. Her family came every summer and winter. Even after her parents died, they kept the cottage. I'm glad to take care of it for them.”

Octavia gave an extra little squeeze to the fabric still in her hand and reached out with her other for the phone. “Jag är tacksam att du gör det.”

Lincoln hummed and wrapped his arms back around her, grabbing the phone in the process. “Can you tell me about your family?”

Octavia simply nodded as she accepted the offered phone. She wasn’t two words into her response when her own phone snapped to darkness. “Fuck,” she bit out quickly. It was going so well up until this point. They were actually talking and connecting, and of course, both their phones just had to die within minutes of each other when the power was out and she didn’t bother to pack her portable charger. “And we’re back to where we started,” she grumbled.

“Och nu är vi tillbaka till det här igen,” Lincoln half laughed, half sighed. He stiffened slightly beneath her, just enough to cause Octavia to sit up and turn to face him, worried she’d done something wrong. She glanced into his eyes and was met with a coyness she’d never seen on him before. The look was soft, with a hint of mischief, and when his voice came out an octave lower than usual, it sent shivers that had nothing to do with the cold up her spine. “Vi behöver inte prata, eller hur?”

“Talking is overrated,” Octavia breathed out as she leaned forward. She was met in the middle and threw her arms around his neck as their lips pressed together for the first time. The fire was dying, but the heat generated from their intertwined bodies warmed them both to the core.

*****

“Double shot of whiskey.”

“You see?” Murphy smirked as he turned a glass upright. He grabbed the bottle of Old Grand-Dad and filled the glass. “Now I pour you what you actually want.”

“It’s not for me,” Raven shook her head. She pointed down the bar to the man currently talking animatedly to Echo. “It’s for him. I’ll just have a coffee, please.”

“There are better places to have coffee.”

Raven shrugged her shoulders and gave him a little smirk. “I like the atmosphere. Now bring me a coffee, and give that man his double shot of whiskey.”

Murphy looked like he wanted to retort, but Raven raised an eyebrow in challenge, and he carried the glass unenthusiastically down the bar. Raven watched as he handed the drink to Wells and then point in her direction.

“What?” Wells puzzled loudly. “Oh, no, I’m good.” He tried to dismiss Murphy and hand the drink back, but Murphy was ever the stubborn one.

Raven waited patiently as Wells quickly ended his conversation with Echo and slid his way over to her, drink untouched in his hand. He pulled out the stool next to her just as Murphy handed her a steaming cup of mediocre coffee. 

“I’m just settling some business for Clarke,” Wells stated, keeping his eyes on the whiskey in front of him.

“Uh, huh, keep telling yourself it’s just business for you,” Raven challenged, knowing full well how Wells felt about her best friend.

“It is.”

Raven glared at him without saying a word. She could see his discomfort with her intensity and could tell he was about to crack. Three... Two... One...

“Fine. It isn’t,” he said with a huff. Raven smirked as Wells took a long sip of the liquor, wincing slightly as it slid down his throat.

“You should tell her.”

“Why?” He shook his head. “She doesn’t feel the same way.”

Raven fought the urge to laugh. She’d known Clarke for ten years, and not once in that decade did she ever imply anything more than friendship with her manager. “Believe me, I know that.”

Wells took another long gulp from his glass. “I’ve loved her since we were seven.”

“No shit,” Raven exclaimed. “Listen, if you don’t tell her, you’re never going to be able to move on. It doesn’t matter that I know she doesn’t love you like that. It doesn’t matter if you think you know it. Your heart is always going to hold on to that shred of doubt, because if she hasn’t said it out loud, maybe she does feel the same way as you do.”

Raven finished her rather profound statement to find Wells looking at her, wide-eyed, with nothing but hope spread across his eager face.

“Dude,” Raven shook her head. “She totally doesn’t.”

She watched his shoulders slump as that reality came crashing down on him once more, and though she wasn’t in the mood to break hearts today, she knew he needed to hear it, for his own good.

“Tell her how you feel. Take the rejection. Then move on with your life. You owe it to yourself to find someone who can love you like you love her. It’s Christmas, man.” Raven placed a sympathetic hand to his shoulder.

“I… yeah, I guess you could be right,” he admitted into his half-full glass of whiskey. 

“Wow, do you want my towel?”

Murphy’s voice had her snapping her head in his direction. He stood before them with a droll look on his face.

“What?”

“That was some decent bartender psychology there,” he deadpanned, dramatically wiping away nothing on the counter.

“Shut up, Murphy,” Raven exclaimed, middle finger in the air. “How’s your quest for your ex?”

Murphy shrugged with a valiant effort for nonchalance, but Raven could see the total disappointment hidden behind his eyes as he spoke. “She won’t answer my calls.”

She nodded before reaching for her wallet. “There’s still time for your Christmas miracle.” Raven placed a twenty on the bar top and stood to pull on her coat.

“Where are you running off to?” Murphy asked as he held out her change. Raven just waved him off.

“A happy hobby of mine.” Raven made a quick beeline to the door, but before she left, she turned back to Murphy. “Take care of Wells. He’s a good guy.”

Raven made quick work of the short walk to the big box store. Her mind buzzing with her previous conversation. She was happy to help Wells out, but a part of her did feel a little bad about what Clarke was about to potentially endure. She had no doubt in her mind that Wells did indeed need to hear the bitter truth, but no one wants to break the heart of their oldest friend, and she just sent Clarke on a collision course to do just that. 

Raven made her way through the store, grabbing a basket and tossing in a few bags of chocolate as she went. She quickly found the section she was looking for and ran her hands along the boxes. One immediately caught her eye, and she pulled it from the shelf, reading and admiring the back display.

“That’s a good one.”

“Sorry?” She turned around to find a boy, no more than thirteen, staring at her. He was tall for his age, and gangly as if his body was struggling to catch up to the height he recently gained.

“The  OSOYOO Robot Smart Car,” he pointed to the box in her hand. “It’s a good one. Whoever you’re buying it for would be lucky to receive it.”

Raven quirked her eyebrow at the kid. “That would be me, my man.”

“You?” His eyes widened dramatically and not in the ‘why would you be buying this’ kind of way but more of the ‘that’s so cool you’re buying this’ sort of way. “You’re buying it for yourself?”

“Yep,” Raven winked. “I like to build things. Keeps my mind sharp and off my dismal love situation.”

He gazed at her as if he was trying to see straight into her soul. “Bad break up?” He asked after an interestingly long moment.

“You’re an insightful one, aren’t you?” Raven scrutinized the young teen in front of her, her curiosity piqued at his intense perceptiveness. 

“My mom is in a similar situation,” the boy simply nodded, shifting from foot to foot.

“Bad break up?”

He grinned and shrugged. “Dismal love situation.”

“It seems to happen to the best of us.” Raven cleared her throat quickly, ready to move on from unpleasant reminders of her love life. “So this is the one then?”

The young teen seemed to snap out of whatever fantasy he was just indulging in and shook his head slightly. “I’ve only been able to mess around with that at school during Robotics Club.”

“You’re a member of your school’s robotics club? High five!” Raven held her hand up, and the kid scrunched his nose adorably before slapping her hand with an appropriate level of gusto.

“What do you do?” He asked coyly.

“I’m a mechanical engineer.”

“Really?” The kid lit up like a Christmas tree, and whatever intentions he had were thrown out the window with the pure unadulterated intrigue now splattered across his face. “That’s so cool!” His honest initial reaction was quickly reeled in, and he smiled that knowing little grin that had Raven confused. “Would you maybe want to come talk to our club next week? It’s our last meeting before Christmas.”

“Isn’t that a little weird?” Raven prodded. “No offense, my man, but I don’t even know your name, and for all you know I could be some crazy psycho who would blow up your robotics lab just for fun.”

“I’m thirteen,” he deadpanned, and Raven could hear the scoff before she saw it. “I’m not dumb. I’ll give you Mr. Sinclair’s email address. You can set it up with him if you’d like.”

“Sinclair?” Raven startled. “Jacapo Sinclair?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Jesus, yeah, I know him. He was my teacher when I was in high school.”

The boy was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Well, he comes down from the high school once a week to supervise robotics club.” 

Raven hesitated while she contemplated her situation. On one hand, it really did seem kind of creepy and weird for her to come to this random kid’s school and talk about her job. But on the other hand, the kid seemed sincere enough, even if she got the impression his intentions were more than surface level.

“Come on!” He begged. “Peppermint bark and robot cars can’t be the only thing to look forward to. They say nothing warms the heart like helping cute kids.”

Raven glanced down into her basket, surprised the boy took the time to notice its contents. “Are you sure you’re only thirteen?”

“Pretty sure,” he grinned. Raven watched as he pulled a phone from his back pocket, quickly swiping through the screens. He held it out to her open to a contacts page. “Here. That’s his email. Please, please message him.”

“Alright, alright.” Raven copied the address into her own phone, eyeing the kid as she did so. “You’re a persistent one.”

“Yes!” He fist-pumped the air. He quickly composed himself and held out his right hand. “I’m Aden, by the way.”

She took the hand firmly. “Raven.”

“Raven,” he repeated, a look of familiarity twinkling behind his eyes at the sound. “That’s a nice name.” 

He dropped her hand after a final pump and turned away. Before he disappeared around an aisle, he spun and called out a quick, “I hope to see you next week, Raven! Bye.”

“See ya, Aden,” she returned. Raven stood there a moment, staring at the empty space Aden vacated, before tossing the robotic car into her basket.


	4. Chapter 4

**One Week Until Christmas**

Clarke weaved through the crowded mass of people, half wondering if Lexa had a point. Maybe it was easier to just do all her Christmas shopping online, from the comfort of a plush couch and a warm blanket. But Clarke was a traditionalist at heart, and there was just something sweet about taking the time and effort to go to an actual store to pick out a gift for a loved one. She gently yet firmly pushed her way around an arguing couple and sighed when she finally caught sight of her destination.

Lexa stood, weight supported against the wall behind her, her legs crossed at the ankles, typing away on her phone. Clarke didn’t even try to fight the grin forming on her face as she swiftly navigated towards her. Lexa sensed her approach, and just when she was a few feet away, looked up and beamed.

Clarke always did get swept away by that devastating smile, and today was no different. With no hesitation whatsoever, she wrapped that woman up in a fierce hug and pressed a lingering kiss on her cheek before stepping back.

“Hey, you,” Lexa breathed with that little smirk still plastered on her face.

Clarke found herself mirroring Lexa’s grin. “Were you waiting long?”

Lexa shook her head and promptly put her phone back in her purse. “Just a few minutes. I was able to put out a mini fire at work while waiting.”

“Oh, no! Is everything okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Lexa waved her off. “And infinitely better now that you’re here.”

“Geez, Woods,” Clarke rolled her eyes but definitely felt a blush rise from her chest. “Laying it on thick this afternoon.”

“It’s the Christmas spirit,” Lexa laughed as she gestured grandly at the decorations around them. “Gets me extra sappy. Besides, I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Oh, I don’t mind it in the least.”

“Good.”

Lexa stared at Clarke intently, her eyes darting from her lips, back up, and down once more. Clarke watched as Lexa’s throat moved with her heavy swallow, and she was about to reach to her, to pull her down into a kiss, when Lexa snapped out of wherever she just was and back into reality. Clarke straightened at the sudden change in expression and sighed knowing that moment was lost.

“How was your meeting this morning?”

“Great,” Clarke cleared her throat. “Really great. I’m officially booked for the Christmas Eve party at Echo’s. You’ll be there, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Lexa reached down and intertwined their gloved fingers, and even through the layer of fabric, Clarke felt her hand warm, sending a shiver up her spine. Lexa tugged gently at their connected hands and led the way towards the department store. Clarke spared a glance up, desperate to know if Lexa sported the same little smile she did.

Clarke fought to contain a chuckle when she did not find a smile on Lexa’s face, but an expression she only assumed was reserved for times of war. “You can relax, you know?” Clarke grinned. “We’re not going into battle. It’s just Christmas shopping.”

“You see all these people?” Lexa whispered without looking at her. Her eyes remained trained on the dozens of shoppers around them, ever observant, never losing focus. “Every single one of them has a mission. A goal. No one is willing to back down, not when they think their family’s happiness is on the line (no matter how misguided that line of thinking is). So we must be vigilant. Prepared for anything. But don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe and victorious in the end.”

Clarke came to a complete stop, flabbergasted at Lexa’s intensity over such a non-intense errand. Lexa turned when she encountered resistance, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.  “What?”

Clarke could only shake her head. “I want to laugh, but I have a feeling you’re being 100% serious right now.”

Lexa took a step towards her, their connected hands finally hanging comfortably again. “I don’t take your safety and happiness lightly, Clarke.”

That was it. Clarke couldn’t contain her laughter any longer, and it was actually quite the feat that she managed this long. “Well then, my advocate and protector,” she cackled. “By all means, lead the way.”

If Clarke’s bout of laughter startled Lexa, she didn’t show it. She merely raised her eyebrows in a subtle shrug as if she were proud to be called Clarke’s advocate and protector and continued to guide them towards the store. “So, who is first on the list?”

“There is actually only one name on the list.”

“What?” It was Lexa’s turn to come to a sudden halt. “You begged me to come Christmas shopping with you, and there’s only one person on the list? I know for a fact that you give gifts to more than one person. I can name a dozen right now.”

Clarke grimaced with her coming confession. “So I may have done some online shopping this year.”

Lexa let out a breathy sort of chuckle huff but continued her trek towards the store. “I never thought I’d see the day…”

“I’ve been busy this month with the song!” Clarke defended as she reached for the door handle. “And after Bellamy’s article ran, Wells has been fielding calls nonstop for interviews before Christmas.”

“Clarke,” Lexa exclaimed. She pulled Clarke away from the door and over to an uncrowded spot near the side of the building. Lexa practically pinned Clarke to the cold stone wall with the hurt yet proud expression burning behind her green eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s so wonderful. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you,” Clarke admitted, hesitant to look up into Lexa’s gaze. She felt a twinge of heartache knowing she would find pain there for her lack of sharing. “I guess it still doesn’t feel real, you know? All this good press… It can’t be real.”

“It is real,” Lexa shook her head. She pressed her fingers to the underside of Clarke’s jaw, gently tilting it upwards. Clarke was met with a tenderness she didn’t even realize she needed but was oh-so-grateful for. “I always knew you’d get the recognition you deserved one day. I just wish you’d told me earlier.”

“Why?” Clarke shrugged before looking back down, still stuck in a small puddle of self-pity and self-doubt. “We’ve both been so busy.”

Clarke could see the mournful sigh form before it left Lexa’s lips. “I’m never too busy for you, Clarke.” Lexa’s voice was calm and caring, and Clarke couldn’t keep her eyes down if she tried. “I apologize if I ever made you feel like I was. I want you to share with me. I want you to share _everything_ with me.”

“You’re something else, Lexa Woods.”

“Only because of you.”

Clarke held Lexa’s soft gaze, wondering how the hell she deserved someone like Lexa in her life. The corners of her mouth twitched up as the tears burned behind her eyes. Lexa’s hand lightly traced her face, and Clarke found herself cursing the cold for making Lexa wear gloves and denying her the feeling of skin touching skin.

She leaned gently into the touch, closing her eyes with the warmth cupping her cheek. A static pop had her eyes springing open and Lexa’s neck craning towards the sudden noise.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” an overly enthusiastic announcer's voice called over the PA. “We are proud to present the Polis Children’s choir!”

A group of kids aged about five to fifteen filed out from a nearby store and began to sing. The interruption was quick but enough for the moment to be gone. Lexa dropped her hand, and Clarke sighed heavily at the loss.

“Okay,” Lexa turned back with a smile. She winked and offered her entire arm to Clarke. Clarke warmed at the gesture and easily looped hers through Lexa’s. She snuggled tightly into the hold, happy to be close enough to smell the delicate perfume Lexa always wore. They walked, linked, side-by-side, into the department store. “So who is the one person on your list?”

“My mother,” Clarke grumbled.

“Any idea what you’re looking for?”

“Something black.” Clarke tugged Lexa to a nearby display of wool scarves. “Like her soul.”

Lexa laughed and shook her head, releasing Clarke’s arm to sift through the racks. “Abby isn’t that bad. She loves you.”

“Maybe,” Clarke relented, pulling out a black and white herringbone scarf that she knew would look fantastic on her mother. “I just wish she’d support me. Just once I wish she’d come to a gig, see how happy it makes me.”

“Do you hear that?” Lexa grabbed Clarke’s forearm abruptly, and the sudden contact nearly had Clarke startling into the air.

“What?” She blinked looking around for the source of Lexa’s unusual behavior.

“Oh my god, Clarke!” Lexa tightened the hold on her forearm almost to the point of pain as she dragged Clarke further into the store. “It’s your cover!”

“What?” Clarke muttered, still perfectly baffled as to what was going on. Lexa was almost never this enthusiastic, and Clarke had no clue as to why she was so rushed. Lexa pulled Clarke up to a retail worker whose confused expression mirrored her own.

“Is that the radio?” Lexa demanded.

“I’m sorry?” The poor flustered woman blinked back. Clarke knew damn well how intense and intimidating Lexa could appear, and she almost felt bad for the woman for getting the full brunt of overly excited Lexa.

“The music in your store,” Lexa repeated harshly. “Are you playing the radio?”

“Yes...”

“Clarke!” Lexa turned to her, finally releasing the grip on her arm. Her grin was spread ear to ear, and Clarke wondered if she’d ever seen anything as beautiful. “You’re on the radio!”

“I’m on the radio?” Clarke shook her head at the foreign sounding words, still a little discombobulated from seeing such a look of pure joy on the usually quite stoic woman.

“I’m on the radio,” Clarke repeated as the words began to make sense. She looked up, and Lexa’s eyes twinkled with glee as she finally processed the music in her ears. It was her song. Her cover of “Christmas Is All Around” playing softly for all the shoppers to hear.

“Lexa! I’m on the radio!” Clarke exclaimed as she jumped into Lexa’s waiting arms. Lexa held on tight, spinning her around, and Clarke wasn’t sure which felt better: the fact that her hard work was actually gracing the airwaves or the feeling of Lexa’s pure pride and happiness seeping through their tight embrace.

Lexa gently placed Clarke down on two feet, and both of them just stood there holding each other as the song finished with its grand musical flourish.

“How does it feel?”

“Weird,” Clarke grinned. “But a good weird. A great weird.”

“Clarke,” Lexa breathed. She brought both of her hands up to cup Clarke’s face, and Clarke reached out for anything, finally settling on holding Lexa’s arms. “I’m so happy for you. And I just want to tell you that I lo-”

Clarke’s phone rang loudly in the store, the sound so sharp and unwelcome, and Clarke quickly grabbed it eager to silence the shrill tones and get back to the moment before her. But she saw the caller id and hesitated. “It’s Wells.”

Lexa smiled and stepped away, allowing Clarke the space to answer the call from her manager.

“Did you hear it?” Clarke blurted without bothering with a hello first. “The cover, _my_ cover, was on the radio!”

_“Really? I was hoping a station would air it. That’s amazing Clarke! You did it!”_

“With no small part from you. Thank you, Wells. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

_“I can’t believe it. You’re wonderful.”_

Clarke smiled, just happy to acknowledge how far she’d come. Wells had been her friend for twenty years, her manager for nearly half that. He’d always fought for her, and now it was all paying off.

“Oh my god,” Clarke exclaimed with a sudden thought. “I have to call Monty!”

_“Wait! Clarke! There’s something I have to talk to you about. Can we meet?”_

For an unknown reason, Clarke suddenly found herself looking up, her eyes scanning for Lexa. The woman in question stood not a few feet away, busy typing something into her phone.

“Um, yeah, of course. Is everything okay?”

_“It’s fine.”_

“When would you like to meet?”

_“Now?”_

“I’m kind of busy right now,” Clarke looked back up and smiled warmly at Lexa. “Lexa and I-”

At the sound of her name, Lexa’s head snapped up and she frantically waved at her.

“Hold on, Wells. Let me call you back.” Clarke hung up the phone without waiting for an answer, mildly aware that would probably be interpreted as rude, but she honestly didn’t care at the moment.

“It’s okay, Clarke. You can go,” Lexa urged in that soft, almost self-sacrificing way that had Clarke shaking her head.

“But we weren’t finished shopping, and I miss you,” Clarke added, reaching out to grasp Lexa’s hand. “We keep getting pulled apart by something or someone.”

“We’ll find the time,” Lexa smiled. “Besides, Aden just texted. He sounded panicked. At least as panicked as you can sound in a text.”

Clarke’s whole demeanor shifted with that information. Her body stiffened, and she felt a bout of protectiveness wash over her. She cherished Aden and loved him almost as a son. “Is everything okay?”

“I think so.” Lexa scrunched her eyebrows adorably as she re-read something on her phone. “It’s something to do with the perfect woman…”

“Oh,” Clarke exclaimed, honestly taken aback by the statement. She felt her body relax knowing that Aden wasn’t in any real danger. “That does sound serious,” she smiled. Her relief and happiness were short-lived as she suddenly realized that she was about to part from Lexa yet again. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you later then?”

“Definitely,” Lexa confirmed. “You are unbelievably wonderful. Congratulations.” She gave Clarke’s hand a final squeeze and gifted her with a soft kiss to the cheek before turning and walking away.

Clarke felt a swell in her chest and without much thought shouted out to the retreating woman. “Hey, Lexa!”

Lexa didn’t turn, the chatter and noise of the department store too great and her distance from Clarke too much. The words were already on the tip of her tongue, and though Lexa wouldn’t hear them, Clarke let them escape her lips anyway.

“I love you…”

*****

Octavia turned in the warm embrace and sighed softly as Lincoln fluttered his eyes open. “Good morning,” she whispered, allowing her hand to gently trace his bare shoulder.

“[Godmorgon snygging.](https://eris223.tumblr.com/post/181333706599/linctavia-translations-for-love-actually-is)”

She looked into his tender brown eyes, fighting back the urge to bury herself in him and never let go. “I can’t believe I leave today.”

Lincoln reached out and tucked several strands of her sleep-mussed hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her cheek. “Synd att du måsta åka hem, jag önskar att du kunde stanna.”

Octavia sighed and finally let her instincts win over. She snuggled up to him, letting her cheek rest against his chest, his heartbeat a strong soothing rhythm in her ear. “I feel like I just found you, and now I have to let you go. It isn’t fair.”

“Världen kan vara så grym och så generös. Jag är så glad att jag träffade dej menliga ledsen att se dej åka härifrån.” Her body moved as he spoke, following the ebb and flow of his words. It didn’t matter that he spoke in a foreign language. She knew exactly what he was saying.

The phone on her bedside table trilled with a text message, a sudden reminder that she had a way to actually converse with the man beneath. Without shifting too much,

Octavia maneuvered herself across the bed and grabbed her phone. With now practiced ease, she typed into the translation app and hit play. “Jag borde göra mig redo. Och då kör du mig till flygplatsen?”

Lincoln nodded softly taking the phone from her. “I want to be with you every second I can.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Octavia said aloud, not even bothering to translate her words. “You can’t. It makes me fall for you even more than I already have.”

Octavia tossed the phone to the end of the bed and leaned down. She tracked her fingers along Lincoln’s sharp jawline before placing a long slow kiss to his lips. She pulled away just when she felt the soft gesture turn heated and stood from the bed. With a final glance back at the man wrapped deliciously in the soft blankets, Octavia made her way into the bathroom to shower.

The drive to the airport was brimming with sadness and longing. Lincoln had interlaced their fingers within minutes, and his hold had just grown increasingly tighter the closer they got to the airport.

He pulled the car to a stop in front of the gate and swiftly retrieved her luggage. Octavia stood there, watching his almost graceful movements and willed herself to keep it together. “Du kan komma tillbaks mär som helst ock om Lexas stuga är upptagen kan stannar hos mej.”

She nodded without understanding the words but fully comprehending their implications. “You’re welcome to visit me in the States.”

“Du borde åka nu man vet inte hur länge det kan ta att gå igenom säkerhetskontrollen.”

Octavia crashed her body into Lincoln’s, standing as tall as she could to wrap her arms around his neck. Lincoln coiled his muscular arms around her middle and lifted her easily into the air.

“I don’t want to leave,” she mumbled into his neck. She knew Lincoln could feel her tears as they trailed down her cheeks and settled on his neck, but she lost the will to care.

Lincoln gently set her down, leaning forward to fully look into her eyes, careful to make his promise heard and understood. “Vi kommer att ses igen, Octavia.”

With a final kiss, Lincoln wiped away her tears, and she did the same for him. Octavia didn’t look back as she dragged her suitcase into the airport. She couldn’t. She knew if she caught a glimpse of his heartbroken face she’d never leave.

Sitting down at her gate, Octavia searched her carry-on for her tablet, desperate for a distraction. When her hands pulled out a wool sweater, her breath caught in her throat. When she brought the sweater to her face, her heart skipped a beat. When she breathed in that now familiar scent of Lincoln, her tears flowed once more.

*****

Aden sat back in the surprisingly comfortable plastic chair waiting for Mr. Sinclair to start the meeting. He pulled his phone from his backpack and just opened his mahjong app when a woman waltzed into the room.

Aden’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. She came! Raven actually came. He was going to be able to enact his master plan after all.

“Hey, Raven,” Aden beamed, crossing the distance to her in three long strides. “You made it!” Although his heart was screaming at him to hug this woman who could potentially (re: definitely) make his mother happy, his mind won and he simply held his hand out for her to shake.

Raven smirked at the gesture but wrapped her fingers around his. “Hey, my man. You were right. I needed something else to look forward to.”

“It was me,” Mr. Sinclair suddenly chimed in. Aden dropped his hand from Raven’s to smile at his favorite teacher. “I convinced her. She couldn’t say no to the greatest teacher she ever had at Christmas time.”

Raven shook her head at Mr. Sinclair’s rather lame attempt at a joke. “You just convinced me that it wasn’t a totally creepy weird thing to do. Young Aden here,” she turned to wink at him, and Aden’s heart nearly burst with pride. “Convinced me that it’d warm my cold dead heart.”

“I don’t think you have a cold dead heart.”

“Oh, no?” Raven raised her eyebrows in challenge.

“Nope,” Aden popped with a single shake of his head. “If you did, you wouldn’t be here.”

“How so?”

Aden did his best attempt at a knowing little smirk, trying desperately to channel his mother’s confidence in situations such as these. “It takes a kind, warm person to indulge a kid. So, your heart can’t be cold and dead. It just wouldn’t make sense.”

Aden could easily tell that Raven liked that answer. He saw the way her eyes sparkled even though she rolled them dramatically with his response.

“Are you ready?” Mr. Sinclair asked Raven as he placed a hand on her shoulder. Raven nodded, and Aden suddenly felt anxious to hear her presentation. He really was curious about her. “Take a seat, Aden.”

Aden, ever the good student, didn’t argue and took his seat. He watched intently as Raven instantly had the room hanging on her every word. She talked about her work in a way that made it relatable and accessible, and her smile was as contagious as her laughter. This woman was everything he could ever hope for his mother, and he desperately needed to share this epiphany with someone.

 **_Aden_ ** _: I found her._

 **_Auntie Lexi_ ** _: Found who?_

 **_Aden_ ** _: The. Perfect. Woman._

 **_Auntie Lexi_ ** _: Perfect woman for what?_

“And the lab nearly went boom!” Raven’s voice crescendoed with that word, and Aden nearly fell out of his chair. “It was one of the most amaz-”

Aden whipped his head to the side as Mr. Sinclair cleared his throat, urging Raven to not give them any bad ideas.

“Ingly dangerous and foolish things I’ve ever done,” Raven quickly corrected. “And it’s why you shouldn’t mess around with chemicals without adult supervision. It is in no way cool nor exciting. Safety first, kids.”

“Thank you, Raven. That was very enlightening,” Mr. Sinclair smirked. Aden looked back to the front of the classroom to find Raven almost awkwardly nodding.

“Yep. So, questions?”

Nearly every hand shot up towards the sky, all waving dramatically as if that would make Raven call on them first.

“Do any of you have questions regarding mechanical engineering or robotics and not about how to make things explode?”

Every single hand dropped, and Aden bit back his laughter.

“Then I guess my job here is done.”

His eyes followed Raven as she made her way to the desk in the back, only barely listening as Mr. Sinclair opened the class up to their free time. Aden stood quickly, but instead of rushing over to the boxes of robotic cars, he found his feet carrying him to the desk sitting in the back of the room.

“Thank you, Aden, for suggesting I come here. I had a lot more fun than I thought I would.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Aden nearly choked. She couldn’t leave. Not yet. His mom wasn’t due to pick him up for at least another hour!

“Presentation is over, my man,” Raven shrugged. “Time for me to go.”

“But there’s still an hour left of Robotics Club!” Aden exclaimed, determined to make her stay so she could run into his mom.

He had it all planned out perfectly. He would be casually chatting with Raven about her love for peppermint bark when his mother would waltz into the room. She’d find them talking, and Aden would grandly introduce his mother to Raven with a “Raven, this is my mother, Anya. She loves peppermint bark too.” And they would shake hands and that instant spark thing would happen and they’d both realize that they were meant to be and everyone would have the best Christmas ever.

“You can work on that solar-powered car.”

Aden blinked at his teacher, so caught up in his fantasy that he didn’t even realize Mr. Sinclair had walked over to them.

“Raven!” Aden blurted as a sudden thought popped into his head. “Could you help me finish it? I can’t figure out how to mount the solar panel to the body of my car.”

“I thought you finished that last week?” Mr. Sinclair puzzled. “It worked perfectly when you showed it to me.”

Aden felt his cheeks flush with the panic of being caught in a lie. “I, uh, I just thought I could get a second opinion.”

“I’ll take another look at it,” Mr. Sinclair offered with a smile, and Aden wanted to choke him.

“I just…” he started, frantically trying to find a reason for Raven to stay. “It would just be really cool if Raven looked at it. You know, because she does this for a living, and she’s like a professional and actually knows what she’s talking about.”

He realized what he had just said about one second after those last words left his mouth. His cheeks burned, and he quickly tried to fix his rude comment. “Not that you don’t, sir. You’re awesome! Favorite teacher. Hands down. No comparison.”

Raven leaned over to him and placed a sympathetic little pat to his shoulder. “Nice save there, dude,” she nearly chuckled. Aden glared at her, not amused at her delight in his unfortunate situation. “Now show me your solar car.”

Aden grinned broadly, happy that he had succeeded, if only for a moment, to get Raven to stay. He led her to his designated box and handed it over. He waited for her to pull out the small car before grabbing his phone out of his pocket. As Raven dutifully examined his car, he typed furiously.

 **_Aden_ ** _: Help! She’s going to leave. How do I get her to stay?_

 **_Auntie Lexi:_ ** _I really want to help you out, buddy, but I need more context._

 **_Aden_ ** _: The perfect woman! She’s a mechanical engineer and so pretty, like I’m talking drop dead gorgeous here. She’s funny and smart and witty and she wouldn’t put up with any of her crap._

 **_Auntie Lexi_ ** _: She sounds amazing. I’m happy for you. If she has to leave, just ask for her number. Text her later to plan a date._

 **_Aden_ ** _: Ugh, have you even been paying attention? She’s not perfect for me! She’s perfect for Mom! AND SHE’S ABOUT TO LEAVE! Mom’s picking me up in 45 mins, and she’ll be gone before she gets here. She needs to meet her. She HAS to._

 **_Auntie Lexi_ ** _: You’re trying to set your mom up with a mechanical engineer a week before Christmas?_

 **_Aden_ ** _: I don’t know why I even texted you._

 **_Auntie Lexi_ ** _: Clarke just had to leave, so how about I call your mom, convince her that I need some quality nephew time, and pick you up from your club today. In the meantime, you find out as much information as you humanly can about this perfect mechanical engineer. We’ll go grab some tea and form a plan of attack. Two heads are better than one, and we’ll come up with the meet-cute to blow all meet-cutes out of the water._

 **_Aden_ ** _: You’re the best_

“Sinclair was right, Aden.”

At the sound of Raven’s voice, Aden tucked his phone away as fast as he could. The last thing he wanted was for Raven to think he didn’t value her opinion and would rather be playing on his stupid phone than paying attention when she was offering help.

“This is perfect. You shouldn’t have any problems. It’s a pretty genius design actually.”

Hiding his obvious blush at that compliment, Aden leaned over the table as Raven admired his car once more. “So, do you have any plans for Christmas?”

“Random,” Raven muttered as she traced her finger along the solar panel.

“Indulge a kid.”

Raven peered up over the car, and Aden nearly backed down. She was way too smart to not know that something was going on, but to her infinite credit, she just pursed her lips and answered. “Not this year. But I’ll probably head to a party on Christmas Eve. My best friend is supposed to perform there.”

“Your best friend sings?” Aden asked, genuinely curious.

“She does,” Raven smiled. She stood to address him, and he could see the pride in her eyes as she thought about her best friend. Aden suppressed his total glee at that. If Raven cared that much and was this obviously happy and proud of her friend, well she would be just about the best and most supportive partner for his mother.

“She recently covered “Christmas Is All Around.”

No way. No way that was her best friend.

“Are you talking about Clarke Griffin?”

“You know who she is?” Raven laughed. “God, I’ll have to tell her that. She’ll be mad crazy to hear she has fans.”

“I’m not a fan,” Aden shook his head quickly. “I mean, I am, she’s great. It’s just, I know her. Really well. She’s my-”

“Oh my god!” Raven interrupted with wide eyes. She threw her head back and chuckled at herself. “You’re Aden Woods! Wow, I should have seen that sooner. Although give me a little credit because Aden is actually a pretty common name these days...”

“You know me?”

“You look different than your pictures. Taller…” Raven continued, apparently unaware that he asked a question. “Clarke talks about you all the time.”

Aden was truly stunned at that information. He never expected her to talk about him with her best friend. “She does?”

“Of course she does,” Raven dismissed. “You’re a cool kid.”

Aden preened at that statement. This was turning out better than he could have ever hoped. Not only was Raven as awesome as he had originally assumed, but she was best friends with Clarke, which meant that Lexa had to know her too. Aden was suddenly very eager to have tea with his aunt this afternoon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Christmas Eve**

“Lexa! What are you still doing here?” Marcus came to a quick halt just in front of Lexa’s office door. His eyes were wide as he glanced down at his watch.

“Leaving,” Lexa energetically confirmed as she stacked the last bit of paper neatly on her desk. She glanced over at Octavia who was tucking her laptop into her bag. “We’re leaving.” Lexa ushered Octavia out of her office, careful to flick off the light before closing the door.

“Go!” Marcus shouted at her though there was a look of happiness in his eyes. “I’ll lock up. You can’t be late.”

Lexa smiled gratefully as she pulled her arms through her long coat and made her way down the dark hallway. The office was so quiet this evening, a stark difference from the usual bustle of workers and papers. Octavia walked next to her, matching her stride, but when they reached her office, she ducked inside. Lexa paused to wait for her, but Octavia waved her off. “I’ll see you there.”

“Are you sure? I can wait,” Lexa offered though her mind and body were screaming at her to leave. She would not miss Clarke’s performance tonight. It was just not an option. But at the same time, she knew Octavia was struggling. Ever since she returned from Sweden last week, her mood had been off.

She was just as proficient and productive, but the smile that usually shone through her eyes was gone. Lexa had called Lincoln curious to know if he had any insight, and the whole story had come spewing out of him. She felt that pang of pity for her trusted employee and childhood best friend. Being in love with someone who lived halfway around the world was not something she wished upon her greatest enemy.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Octavia urged, and Lexa could tell from the pointed look in her eyes that there was no point to argue. So she just gave a curt nod, spun on her heel, and headed for the stairs. 

She was just on the top step when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Not daring to lose any time, she kept her brisk pace down the stairs as she quickly responded.

**_Aden_ ** __ : SOS!!!!  
_ She won’t agree to come!!!  
_ __ Help me, Auntie Lexi. You’re my only hope.

**_Lexa_ ** _ : I told you to stop calling me that. Is that still my name on your phone? _

**_Aden_ ** _ : I will neither confirm nor deny that. _

**_Lexa_ ** _ : No help from me then. _

**_Aden_ ** _ : No, please! I won’t call you that anymore. Just convince her to come.  
_ _ I’ve tried everything. Please. _

“Oomph!” Rounding the corner of the final step, Lexa collided with a warm body. Her hand instinctively shot out, steadying the woman before she could fall. “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention-”

Lexa finally glanced up at the woman smoothing down her wool coat. “Oh, Abby, hi! What are you doing?”

Abby looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but here. “Hello, Lexa. I’m here to meet Marcus.”

Lexa sharply inhaled with the implications of that statement. “You’re coming?” she blinked as the corner of her mouth twitched up in happiness for Clarke.

Abby just nodded, her facial expression somewhere between aloofness and irritation. “Marcus seemed to think it was a good idea.”

Despite Abby’s clear hesitation about watching Clarke perform, Lexa found herself giddy to see Clarke’s face when she set her eyes upon her mother finally supporting her. “This will mean so much to her. Thank you.”

Abby simply nodded again, clearly indicating that this awkward conversation was over, and Lexa cleared her throat. “I’m going to go. I’ll save a seat for you and Marcus.”

“Thank you,” Abby said curtly before pushing past Lexa and heading up the stairs. Confident that Abby was well out of sight, Lexa let her eyes roll to the ceiling. She would never understand that woman. She knew Abby cared for her daughter, that much was clear, but she just couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Abby refused to watch Clarke do the one thing that made her eyes light up like a child’s. 

Lexa pushed those thoughts from her head and dialed her sister’s number as she made her way down the street.

_ “Hello.” _

“Anya. Merry Christmas.”

_ “Merry Christmas, little sis. Why are you calling? Aren’t we going to see you and - wait. ADEN! Did you call your aunt to get her to try and convince me to go to the party?” _

“He didn’t call me, Anya.”

_ “He didn’t?” _

“No. He texted me.” Lexa could hear the scoff and knew Anya was about to abruptly hang up. “Wait, wait! Why don’t you want to come?”

_ “You know how it is around Christmas. It’s just hard.” _

“I know. But I also know that this is really important to Aden, and you’d do pretty much anything to make that boy happy.”

Lexa noticed the pregnant pause and happily realized that she was about to win. “Come out tonight. Clarke’s set starts in about thirty minutes. If you leave now, you’ll just make it in time.” Lexa waited a few more seconds, and when she heard that little tsk, she beamed with pride at her victory.

_ “Save us a seat.” _

Anya hung up without as much as a goodbye, but Lexa didn’t care. Aden was so intent on orchestrating this introduction that she found herself eagerly anticipating it. She wasn’t too terribly convinced that Anya and Raven were a match made in heaven, but Aden sure as hell did, and what kind of aunt would she be if she didn’t help the kid make his Christmas wish come true?

Lexa pushed the heavy wooden door open and was hit with a most welcome warmth. The crowd was decent but not too big, and the pub smelled like oranges and cinnamon, a clear sign that Echo’s latest batch of mulled wine was ready for consumption. Lexa scanned the room as she always did, searching for blonde hair, and was disappointed to find none.

“Lexa! Lexa, over here.” 

Lexa made her way over to a group of empty tables, occupied by a lone Raven Reyes. “Hello, Raven. Where’s Clarke?”

“She already went to get ready.” Raven slid a full glass of mulled wine across the table as Lexa hung her coat on a chair. “Wine?”

Lexa looked from the glass up to Raven’s slightly hesitant face. “Don’t think that a glass of wine is going to make me any less irritated with you.”

“What?” Raven tried to question innocently which only made Lexa more agitated.

“I can’t believe you encouraged Wells to do that!”

“Do what?”

Lexa crossed her arms and set her jaw. “Don’t play coy, Raven. I know Clarke told you all about it. Why would you tell him that confessing his undying love for her was a good idea? Right before Christmas!”

“It was a good idea,” Raven defended forcefully, quickly mirroring Lexa’s aggressive stance. “Clarke clearly doesn’t feel the same way, and he needed to hear it.”

“But-”

“No buts, Woods,” Raven interjected, and Lexa was actually caught off guard. It was a rarity for someone to interrupt her, and an even greater oddity that she allowed it. “It doesn’t matter how  _ you _ feel about this situation. Wells needed that cold hard rejection to finally move on. Even you can admit it was getting out of hand.” 

She could possibly see Raven’s point, and while she had been fairly upset and jealous when she heard what Wells had told Clarke the other day, Lexa was instantly comforted when Clarke assured her that she felt nothing but friendship for the man. “Look, Raven. It’s Christmas Eve, and I really don’t want to fight or think about anyone but Clarke right now. So let’s just drop it.”

“You were the one who brought it up!”

“I had to make my displeasure with your meddling known, and I did that.” Lexa stood and with a dangerous raise of her eyebrows asked politely, “Now will you kindly save five seats for me?”

*****

Raven huffed as she watched Lexa make her way to the bar. That woman could be scary as all hell, and it took all she had to not back down from her. But she knew she was right. Wells deserved to move on, and she truly believed he could now.

Raven turned her head towards the door as a familiar woman slumped in. “Octavia!” Raven shouted, delighted to see her friend for the first time in weeks. “How are you, woman?” Raven pulled her friend into a fierce hug that Octavia barely returned. “Lincoln?”

“Yeah,” Octavia grumbled as she collapsed into a chair. Raven just slid the wine Lexa declined towards her, and Octavia smiled gratefully as she took a long sip.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes,” Octavia sighed. “But not tonight. Tonight I just want to get appropriately drunk with my friends and listen to Clarke slay these Christmas songs.”

Raven patted her back and then pulled her in for a side hug, holding her tight. “Nice unintentional pun there.”

“What? Oh, slay/sleigh. I get it.”

Raven released her and took a sip of her own whiskey and coke. She’d never seen Octavia like this. That woman was anything but man crazy, so the fact that she was so distraught over her Swedish prince had Raven hurting for her. She leaned back in her chair, letting her mind wander to what she could possibly do to help. There had to be some way to bring those two lovebirds together. She could do this. She wasn’t a genius for nothing. 

Raven scrunched her forehead in thought when she caught sight of floppy brown hair. She sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing in on the back of the man’s head. Fuck no. Not tonight. He was not going to ruin her night or Clarke’s. 

“O, save that table there for Lexa and whoever else she has coming, will ya? I’ll be right back.” Raven stood quick as a flash and followed the man into the back hallway.

“Finn? What the fuck are you doing here?” Raven bit out through clenched teeth.

“Raven!” He turned with that boyish smirk, his eyes glowing with fake admiration. “Thank god you’re here. I miss you.” He held his arms open to her as if he really expected her to come running into them.

“No,” she shook her head violently. “No way, asshole. You need to leave!”

“Oh, come on, Raven.” Finn rolled his eyes and took a step towards her. She bristled with warning as he got uncomfortably close. “You can’t still be upset with me.”

“I have every right to hate the ground you walk on. Leave! Now!” Raven shouted as she took a step backwards. Finn instantly attempted to close the distance between them, but a new voice had him stopping in his tracks.

“Is everything alright back here?” Murphy turned the corner, empty keg in hand. “Finn?” he exclaimed, setting the canister down. “What are you doing here, man?” Murphy’s confused face turned even more befuddled when he saw Raven standing there. “Raven?”

“You know this cheating dickwad?” Raven pointed a finger harshly at Finn.

“ _ He’s _ the asshole?” Murphy marveled before turning to Finn. “You told me your girlfriend just suddenly had a change of heart. But you cheated on her?”

Finn scoffed, “You’re not seriously going to believe a woman over your friend, are you, Murph-”

Finn’s face suddenly contorted almost comically as a small fist collided with his face. He slumped to the ground, hand clutching his now bleeding nose.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that for ages.”

Raven looked up to find a pretty woman with dark hair frantically shaking her fist.

“Emori?” Murphy exclaimed, and if the past fifteen seconds hadn’t been so surprising she might actually have laughed at the totally stunned face he was currently sporting.

“Who are you?” Raven asked as she finally found her voice.

Murphy took a step forward, his eyes never leaving this new woman’s as he answered for her. “This is my ex.”

“Well, Murphy’s ex,” Raven cleared her throat and held out her hand. “Thanks for decking my ex.”

“Anytime,” Emori slightly winced as she shook Raven’s hand. “That guy’s an asshole. No idea why John’s friends with him.”

Raven could really only smirk and shake her head. She walked slowly back towards the table, but before she turned the corner, she glanced over her shoulder. Murphy held Emori’s hand to his lips and gently kissed each knuckle. If the look on Emori’s face was anything to go by, it would seem that John Murphy was indeed about to get his Christmas miracle.

*****

Lexa weaved through the increasingly crowded pub towards her saved table, three drinks in hand. She gracefully maneuvered around groups of happy patrons, and as she finally approached her table, she was met with the most welcome sight of her nephew.

“Aunt Lexa!”

“Hey, buddy! You made it.” Lexa set the two alcoholic drinks on the table and handed over the coke to Aden as she brought him in for a quick hug.

“Thank you,” Aden smiled appreciatively. He glanced frantically around the table, his eyes scanning for the perfect woman. “Where is she? You said she was here.”

“She’s here,” Lexa reassured him. “She wouldn’t just leave before Clarke’s set.”

“What are you two conspiring about over there?” Anya sat down next to Aden and threw an arm over his shoulder, grabbing one of the drinks off the table with her free hand.

“Your dismal love situation,” Aden smirked with a quick raise of his eyebrow that had Lexa struggling to contain her laughter. Anya’s face narrowed, and Aden braced himself for her retort, but he was saved by the dimming of the house lights.

Lexa took the seat next to Aden and gladly trained her eyes on the woman at center stage.

“Merry Christmas everyone! I’m happy to be here, sharing this cold but charming Christmas Eve with you. Tonight’s performance will be different than usual. All holiday songs tonight, as requested by the owner, so take it up with her if you don’t like Christmas carols. Not that I’d really recommend doing that. She is the one in charge of pouring your drinks after all. Anyway, let’s get to it. And please, it’s Christmas, so let it out if you want to sing along.”

Lexa sat transfixed by Clarke’s beautiful voice and captivating stage presence. She didn’t look away when Marcus and Abby snuck to their table. She didn’t break her gaze when Monty came out to perform their cover. The only time Lexa looked away from those blue eyes was when Clarke had finished her set and wrapped her arms tightly around Lexa’s neck.

“Merry Christmas, Clarke,” Lexa breathed into her ear.

“Merry Christmas, Lexa.” Clarke played with the ends of her hair in that way that always drove Lexa mad. She struggled to keep her legs from giving out, but Lexa maintained enough composure to express exactly how she felt about the woman in her arms.

“You were spectacular, again. And I don’t think that just because I lo-”

“Mom?” Lexa felt Clarke’s hold on her falter as she obviously caught sight of the woman sitting at the table behind them. Lexa sighed but smiled as she released Clarke and took a step back. She’d get her moment. Right now, Clarke needed this with her mother.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“You came,” Clarke mumbled with a completely adorable astounded voice.

“You performed well, Clarke,” Abby leaned in and gave Clarke a quick hug. “Your father would have loved to see you like this.” 

It wasn’t much, but Lexa could tell that it was enough for now. A step forward in mending their relationship. Lexa glanced at Marcus who was sporting a soft yet smug smile, and when he caught her gaze, winked at her. She smirked and shook her head before turning back to Clarke. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

Lexa held out her hand, and Clarke eagerly accepted it. Such a simple gesture, and yet it made her feel whole and powerful and wanted. They navigated their way to the bar, pausing occasionally for patrons to offer their praise and appreciation for Clarke, but never letting go of one another. 

Without bothering to ask Clarke this time, Lexa ordered as soon as Echo appeared. “Two mulled wines, please.”

Echo smirked and crossed her arms. “You know the rules,” she deadpanned.

Lexa looked up to find that Clarke was once again standing beneath the mistletoe. Without any hesitation this time, Lexa weaved her fingers through honey blonde hair, delighted when Clarke released a breathy exhale at the touch. She stepped infinitely closer, feeling Clarke’s body heat as she did so. She leaned in, and Clarke pressed her palm gently to Lexa’s back.

Their lips were close, so close. Lexa could taste the strawberry chapstick Clarke always kept in her purse when a voice called out.

“There you are, Clarke. I was-” Lexa pushed Raven out of the way, essentially clotheslining the unsuspecting woman, not daring to let another person interrupt her this time. She pressed her lips to Clarke’s, sighing heavily as she felt Clarke melt into her with a fiery passion. 

Lexa didn’t care when she heard Raven exclaim “Hey!” when she shoved her out of the way. She didn’t care that Echo was starting a slow clap. She didn’t even care that half the patrons around them were beginning to stare as their innocent mistletoe kiss became a little inappropriate by today’s rather archaic societal standards. All Lexa cared about was her desire to kiss the woman she loved, and god damn did she kiss her.

Clarke pulled away first, and Lexa chased her lips a fraction, eyes still closed, lips still tingling. When she fluttered her eyes open, she was met with dazed blue ones. The grin was unavoidable. “Do you think that maybe we should…”

“Call it a night?” Clarke finished for her with a devilishly sly smirk that caused a spell of shivers to ascend Lexa’s body. “Abso-fucking-lutely. Take me home, Woods.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

*****

Octavia sighed as she watched the scene unfold beneath the mistletoe. She was happy for Lexa and Clarke, she truly was, but their unadulterated joy only reminded her of what she left behind. Octavia tried to be happy. But she was surrounded by love everywhere she looked.

She was jealous of Marcus holding Abby’s hand not so discreetly under the table. She was green with envy over the surly looking bartender and the cute girl he kept making heart eyes at.  

And then there was her own brother and his newish girlfriend sitting not three feet away from her currently placing sweet innocent kisses on each other’s lips. It was too much. She tried, and it clearly wasn’t the time to try and fake it. With a huff, she grabbed her jacket and stood from the table.

“O, where are you going?” Bellamy disentangled himself from Echo long enough to glare at her.

“I just can’t be here right now.”

“Please don’t go,” he begged, his voice suddenly soft. “It’s Christmas. You should be with people who love you, not home alone.”

“You know what? You’re right. There is someone who loves me. And I don’t know why I didn’t stay.”

Octavia pulled her jacket over her shoulders and strode towards the door. She pulled out her phone ready to call an uber to the airport when she was met with a sudden blast of cold air. Her eyes trailed up strong legs, a wide frame, and a familiar face.

“Lincoln?” Octavia’s heart nearly stopped beating at the sight of the man she was just about to buy a ridiculously overpriced ticket for on Christmas Eve. She stood there, her mouth opening and closing like a fool as she tried to form a real sentence. “What? How? Why? What?”

She clearly failed miserably. 

Octavia glanced around the bar as if someone there would have an explanation for her dream suddenly coming true. All she found was mostly confused faces, a few lustful ones staring at her man, and Lexa, standing next to Clarke with a wicked knowing smirk.

She turned back to Lincoln who was smiling at her with that winning grin of his. He closed the short distance between them in a second. “Octavia, hello.”

Octavia couldn’t even respond, oblivious to the fact that he just spoke English. She was still half convinced that Lincoln was some sort of cruel hallucination her heartbroken mind made up to torture her. But he grasped her hands and leaned down to look directly into her eyes, and she knew this was real.

“I know we have not known each other very long, but I think I knew it the moment I turned the corner. You were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and the heat coming off you was different from what I had ever experienced. I love you. I loved you when I did not understand you. I loved you when you took the skis off in the snow.”

“You took your skis off in the snow? You should never take your skis off in the snow.” A boy’s voice whispered loudly in the strangely quiet bar.

“Aden!”

“What? You shouldn’t.”

Octavia didn’t bother breaking her gaze with Lincoln. She didn’t give a shit what anyone else was doing or talking about. All that she could concentrate on were the beautiful words leaving his beautiful mouth.

“I loved you when you could ask me any question in the world and you wanted to know my favorite color. I even loved you when you did not look at me when you left. I know it is unexpected, but I could not spend Christmas without you. I do not want to spend any Christmas without you. We could take it slow, but I do not see why. I know what I want, and I hope I have the right to guess you feel the same. Octavia, do you want to do me the great honor to make me your husband?”

Octavia held back the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks and took in a deep steadying breath. “[Jag kände det när jag såg dig.](https://eris223.tumblr.com/post/181368981864/linctavia-translations-for-love-actually-is) Jag kände det när vi kysste. Jag kände det när jag hittade din tröja. Jag känner det nu. Jag älskar dig också. Ja. Ja, jag gifter mig med dig.”

Lincoln grinned from ear to ear and pulled her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him with everything she had. “You learned English?” she mumbled into his mouth.

Lincoln pulled away enough to speak but continued to hold her close. “Just for you,” he whispered. “You learned Swedish?”

“Bara för dej.”

Lincoln laughed at her butchered pronunciation. “We will work on the accent.”

“It’s not that bad!” Octavia scoffed with a smile.

Lincoln shook his head. “No more words.” And with that Octavia leaned into him once again, eager to kiss her fiancé.

*****

Anya tried to fight the smile on her face at the sight of her childhood friend kissing the woman he loved with abandon. She even tried not to smirk as she caught Lexa sneak out the back door with Clarke in hand. But she failed. Damn this Christmas spirit. Everyone she cared about was being disgustingly cute tonight.

Anya stood from the table with an irritated little huff. She needed another drink. Badly.

“Mom, where are you going?”

“Wait here, Aden,” she calmly commanded. “I’m just going to go grab another drink. Do you want anything?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

Anya smiled at her son, and with a quick squeeze of his shoulder, pushed past him and towards the bar. “Booker’s. Neat, please,” she ordered.

“Thank god you didn’t order the mulled wine.”

Anya turned towards the voice to find a stunning woman sipping a cocktail at the bar.

“What?”

“Echo,” the woman gestured towards the bartender. “Weird thing about Christmas drinks only being for people who abide by the Christmas rules.” 

Anya just continued to stare at her, completely confused as to what Christmas rules she was referring to. As if she read her mind, the woman gestured above Anya quickly. “You’re standing under the mistletoe.”

Anya glanced up and sure enough, there hung a perfect little bundle of green. Anya took a cautious step forward, eager to put as much distance between that stupid tradition and herself.

“Wise,” the woman nodded. 

Anya, ever the protective mother, took a moment to glance back at her son. He sat at the table, wide-eyed. Even from this distance, she could see his eyes darting dramatically from her to the woman sitting next to her. When he realized she caught him staring and sent him  _ that _ look, he quickly averted his gaze but not hasty enough to hide his obvious blush. 

Anya set her jaw. Something was up with her kid. She was about to waltz over there and find out what exactly that something was when the woman spoke up again. “Peppermint bark?”

Anya smirked as she took the offered candy. It was her favorite after all. “Thank you,” she said in between bites. “It’s my favorite, and I really only indulge in it this time of the year.”

The woman winked at her. She fucking winked, and Anya wasn’t sure if she liked it or hated how smug it seemed. “I’m Raven. And I’m a full believer that indulgences should not be limited to once a year.”

Anya held out her hand before she could roll her eyes and introduced herself with a simple, “Anya.” Raven wrapped her fingers around Anya’s hand, and when their skin touched, Anya couldn’t deny the spark that shot up her hand any more than she could deny the grin she saw plastered on her son’s face at that moment.

*****

Clarke had barely stepped over the threshold when long fingers wrapped around the back of her neck. Her body was pressed against the closed door, and a strong hand grasped her thigh, hitching her leg around the waist in front of her. Lexa pressed her whole body against Clarke as she dove back in for another kiss. Clarke coiled her arms around the woman she loved, digging her fingers into her lean back. Lexa moaned, and Clarke took full advantage of her now open mouth.

As happy as she was to finally have a moment alone, no potential for a random interruption, no managers calling to confess their love, no cute nephews begging for help, Clarke was desperately impatient. She pushed herself off the door, bringing her leg down in the process, and urged Lexa backwards. She kept their lips locked together in increasingly messy and heated kisses as they made their way through the familiar house. 

Clarke tugged at the hem of Lexa’s sweater, and Lexa lifted her arms without hesitation. The garment was thrown to the side, abandoned in the darkness, as Clarke continued to lead them to the bedroom. Her jacket was next to go as Lexa’s hands pushed it off her shoulders, followed quickly by her shirt. 

Lexa suddenly collided with the closed bedroom door, and Clarke used the abrupt pause to reach behind her own back and unhook her bra. Clarke chuckled lightly as she pressed her naked chest to Lexa’s barely clothed one, and she heard Lexa’s breath catch in her throat. Her laughter died the instant Lexa flipped their position, and her hands were on her the moment her own back pressed to the cool wooden door. 

Clarke’s body shuddered as warm hands cupped her breasts and capable fingers teased her nipples. She struggled to stay still, her instincts screaming at her to rock forward, gain some sort of pressure, some friction. She didn’t have to struggle for long. Lexa’s hands dragged down Clarke’s bare skin and settled under her ass.

Clarke braced herself for what she knew was coming and quickly threw her arms around Lexa’s neck and wrapped her legs around her waist as she was lifted into the air. She threw caution to the wind and ground down as best she could from her position, gasping as she found a little relief. Clarke felt Lexa’s arms shift, and the door bracing most of her weight suddenly pushed open. 

Clarke felt weightless as she reacted to Lexa’s touch. The warmth of her body pressed against hers, the slick heat of her tongue in her mouth, the flex of her muscles as she carried Clarke to the bed, it all had her head reeling in the best possible way.

Despite how intense and lustful the past few minutes had been, Clarke suddenly found herself laid tenderly on the soft bed. Lexa paused above her, her long dark hair hung loosely to one side, framing her lovely face perfectly. Clarke shuddered from the look alone. Lexa looked at her as if she hung the moon in the sky. 

Clarke’s heart felt like it was about to beat right out of her chest, and it nearly did when Lexa smiled so softly and muttered so genuinely, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she confessed. Clarke reached her hands behind Lexa’s back, pulling her down. The kiss was unhurried; it meant something more in this moment. It was a confession, a promise. It was love. And it was better than any lustful moment.

Clarke found her hands wandering up Lexa’s lean back until they caught on the fabric strap. With practiced ease, she rid Lexa of her undergarment, and both women let out desperate sighs as their uncovered skin finally pressed against each other. It didn’t take long before Clarke was writhing completely naked underneath an equally as bare Lexa, their bodies moving, sliding, grinding in a perfect dance of limbs and love. 

All the interruptions, all the missed opportunities had been worth it. They were here, now, and as Lexa’s breathing increased and her body shuddered underneath her and she heard that sweet sound escape her lips, Clarke hummed happily into her neck. She settled her weight just to the side of Lexa, keeping one leg draped lazily between hers.

Lexa turned her head towards her with the most beautiful just fucked smile Clarke had ever seen. Lexa reached for Clarke’s left hand and played with her fingers as she leisurely came down from her high. Clarke let her, happy to just be in the moment. Lexa twirled one of the two rings Clarke never took off and smirked. “Do you remember when I gave this to you?”

“I could never forget.”

Lexa brought Clarke’s hand up to her lips and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “I thought you’d think it was too sappy.”

“Never, Woods,” Clarke giggled. “While proposing on Christmas morning was a little cliché, it was still one of the best days of my life.”

Clarke saw the beautiful blush rise from Lexa’s chest and settle on her perfect cheeks. “What are the others?”

Clarke looked around the room, spying all their photographs, the story of their lives laid out in their bedroom. She smiled at each memory before looking back into the green eyes she loved and answered her wife’s question.

“That day you showed up to my class wearing a unicorn onesie because you lost a bet. Our wedding day. The first night at that hotel for our five year wedding anniversary. And today, probably.”

Clarke saw the myriad of emotions sprint across Lexa’s face as she recalled her favorite days, no doubt reliving each memory with her. “Why today?” Lexa asked with a curious smile.

“Seeing you out there, watching me perform. You always make me feel so special, so loved. It doesn’t matter how nervous I am. I look at you, and I know that nothing else matters. I can just sing and play my guitar and come home to you. It’s the best feeling in the world.” 

Clarke took a moment to snuggle into Lexa, laying her head on her chest. Lexa wrapped her left arm tightly around Clarke, anchoring her to her and continued to play with Clarke’s left hand. 

“I only hope I do the same for you,” Clarke added cautiously. Even after two years of dating and nearly six years of marriage, Clarke still worried that she wasn’t enough for the intelligent, generous, beautiful, self-sacrificing woman currently holding her close.

“You do. Everyday. Your passion inspires me; your kindness and warmth make me feel safe. I love you, Clarke. So much. And I’m so sorry this month has been hectic for us. But I promise you that I will make a much better effort to never let it happen again. No matter what we have going on, we always make time for each other.”

Clarke laughed though the words were exactly what she needed to hear. God damn Lexa and her ability to make her feel so good with such seemingly little effort. “You’re such a sap.”

Lexa laughed, and the glorious sound echoed through her chest and into Clarke. “You knew what you were getting when you married me.”

“I did,” Clarke smiled. She rolled completely on top of Lexa, her body singing at the feeling of so much skin on skin. Lexa reached up and brushed Clarke’s hair from her face before pulling her back down for a kiss that had less than innocent intentions. And Clarke enthusiastically reciprocated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January 3, 2019
> 
> Hey all,
> 
> I just wanted to clear a few plot points up, since it would appear that it's confusing as all hell. 
> 
> 1\. Yes, Lexa and Clarke have been married this whole time. No, it was not a secret. This story just focused on those little missed opportunities; on a couple who have been together for a while and just got busy and needed a little push to reconnect. It happens sometimes!
> 
> 2\. I imagine that both Octavia and Lincoln began learning Swedish/English in secret the day after they met. That would put them around a month of practice. It's still fast, I know, but let's just call it a Christmas miracle :) 
> 
> 3\. Raven did know that Clarke had a nephew named Aden but had never met him. She recognized him finally in Ch4, and he almost told her that Clarke is his aunt. Raven just interrupted him. I don't know about all y'all, but I personally have not met all my best friend's nieces and nephews. 
> 
> 4\. Along the same lines, Raven and Anya had indeed heard of each other before, of course they had, but that doesn't mean they'd met. Again, I personally have not met my sister's wife's best friend. I've only heard her name. I suppose I could be in the minority here, but it seemed completely plausible to me that Raven and Anya had never met before. And go ahead and check out Ch6. If you still don't believe it, all I can really do is shrug. It's fanfiction. Suspend your disbelief for the sake of a cute story ;)
> 
> Anyway, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it! Thank you all so much for giving this fic a read. I hope it brought you a little Clexmas cheer, and if it didn't, well that's alright too. I had a blast writing it, and that in itself was a true Clexmas miracle for me.
> 
> Until next time!  
> -EMM


	6. Chapter 6

**One Year Later**   
  
A sharp rap on her office door had Lexa startling from her current task. She finished stacking the remaining papers neatly on her desk as her assistant came into view. “Lexa? Clarke is here for you.”   
  
As usual, Clarke came bounding through the door without waiting for her formal invitation. Lexa watched as Indra fought back her now expected eye roll, and smirked when her assistant actually shook her head lovingly at Clarke. “Thank you, Indra. Go ahead and get home to your family. It’s Christmas Eve.”   
  
Indra nodded and gave her a barely-there smile. “Merry Christmas, Lexa. Clarke.”   
  
Clarke waved as Indra excused herself before turning to meet Lexa in the middle of the room. Lexa opened her arms and was instantly wrapped up by the woman she loved, her whole body relaxing with the contact. Clarke pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before stepping back. “You ready to go?”   
  
“All done. As promised,” Lexa nodded hurriedly. She had taken her vow made a year earlier seriously. Even though both of them had been busier than ever, Clarke with her sudden musical success and Lexa with her usual hectic work schedule, they had made the time for each other over the past year. And what a year it had been.   
  
The short walk to Echo’s was spent in comfortable silence, each woman perfectly content to just link arms and snuggle against the biting wind. As they reached the neighborhood pub, Lexa unhooked their arms and intertwined their fingers instead.   
  
Clarke and Lexa weaved through the moderately crowded pub towards their waiting friends and family. They hadn’t even had the proper chance to greet them hello when Lexa was assaulted by a fiery question from Raven. “Yeah, Lexa, why is that?”   
  
“Why is what?” Lexa calmly asked as she chivalrously removed Clarke’s jacket and carefully hung it on the back of a chair. She was in the process of taking her own coat off when Raven attacked her again.   
  
“Why is it that you never invited Anya to any of our outings?”   
  
“And a Merry Christmas to you, too. But I’ll have you know that I did,” Lexa stated plainly. “I always did. It’s not my fault she’s a recluse who didn’t want to pay for a babysitter.”   
  
Lexa smirked as she watched her sister accept the answer with a shrug of her shoulders. “Babysitters are expensive,” Anya confirmed.   
  
“Then why does she show up now?” Octavia leaned into the table.   
  
Lexa was saved from having to answer by Aden grinning. He gave a cheeky side look to Raven and then to his mother before addressing Octavia’s question. “I expect it has something to do with the perfect woman.”   
  
Anya playfully smacked her son’s shoulder and with a, in no way, harsh tone of voice chastised, “Be nice, Aden. I could have made you stay home tonight.”   
  
“What?” he scoffed as he dramatically rubbed his shoulder. “I am being nice. I was just stating a fact. You do think she’s the perfect woman. I was right! You should be thanking me. You never would have sparked without me.”   
  
Raven shook her head, quickly hiding the obvious blush that had unexpectedly settled on her cheeks from the admission of being thought of as a perfect woman, and with a nearly desperate attempt at a smug little grin patted his shoulder. “Hate to break it to you, my man, but we probably would have met sooner or later. You’re finally old enough to stay at home without a babysitter.”   
  
Aden clearly wasn’t sure if he wanted to argue that statement, most likely hesitant to seem like he did still need a babysitter. His eyebrows scrunched, and the pout on his lips made him look a good four years younger.   
  
Feeling altruistic this Christmas Eve, Lexa decided to jump in and save her nephew by changing the subject. “So,” she said much more enthusiastically than she usually would have. “Octavia, have you two decided on a date yet?”   
  
Octavia lit up at the mention of her wedding, and Lincoln promptly placed his arm around her shoulder, tugging her just a little bit closer. “Not yet. He wants a summer wedding. I want winter.”   
  
“You have been to Sweden in the winter!” Lincoln half laughed as he repeated his obviously usual argument. “It is much too cold to marry in the snow.”   
  
“But that’s when we met!” Octavia bit out. Her voice was harsh, but the way her eyes twinkled gave her away. The clear sentimentality of her desire for a winter wedding had the whole table tsking and muttering a collective, “dawww!”   
  
“I didn’t peg you for such a romantic,” Anya teased.   
  
Octavia surprised everyone by dropping her pointless bitter facade and looking longingly into Lincoln’s eyes. “Sometimes it’s worth it.”   
  
Despite how cheesy that line was, Lexa inhaled sharply at its accuracy. It was completely worth it for the person she loved. She found Clarke’s hand and pulled it to her lap squeezing it gently. Clarke scooted just a little closer in her chair and gently laid her head on Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa smiled tenderly as she inhaled the familiar rosemary and mint of Clarke’s shampoo and pressed a kiss to the honey blonde hair.   
  
“I feel like the third wheel here.” Aden’s voice echoed over the table. “What? Clexa. Linctavia. Ranya.” He said pointing a finger at each couple respectfully and then threw his hands up in defeat. “I’m surrounded by disgustingly cute ships!”   
  
Anya shook her head at her son and with an impressive disappointed mom glare sighed, “You’ve been reading too much fanfiction.”   
  
Aden didn’t even falter when he instantly defended sternly, “There is no such thing as reading too much fanfiction.”   
  
“He’s right,” Raven nodded with the look of a sage and all-knowing wizard. Anya scoffed, utterly betrayed, as Raven held up a hand and was swiftly met with Aden’s in a loud and ostentatious high five.   
  
“Why did I even ask you to move in with us again?” Anya rolled her eyes. “I knew you were going to teach him impossibly nerdy things.”   
  
“Hate to break it to you, Mom. But I was reading fanfiction long before Raven came along.”   
  
The second high five reverberated across the table, and Lexa couldn’t help but grin. Her family was whole and happy. Clarke still snuggled against her as she looked around the warm bar. Echo and Murphy proficiently slung drinks for the steady stream of patrons; Bellamy and Emori crowding the end of the bar, just satisfied to chat as their partners worked nearby. Lincoln and Octavia looked just about as perfect together as a couple could. Their soft gazes so sweet, she was sure they could melt even the coldest of hearts. Anya seemed so at ease and content, a stark contrast to her previous surly and jaded demeanor, and Lexa knew it was all due to Raven. Hell, she even spied Wells, Clarke’s former manager, beaming as he escorted a brunette towards the bar.   
  
It would seem as if everything was exactly as it should be, and when Clarke rose to ready herself for her set, Lexa stood with her. She pressed a sweet kiss to her love’s cheek and broke out in a tiny nearly embarrassing giggle as Clarke devilishly winked back at her before leaving. And she had never felt as lucky in her life.   
  
  
  
**Christmas Morning** ****  
  
“Good morning, sleepy head.”   
  
Clarke turned towards the sound of Lexa’s voice, grumbling in protest of being woken from her very pleasant sleep. She stretched her stiff body and yawned loudly before smiling. “Good morning. What time is it?”   
  
“7:30.”   
  
“7:30?” Clarke groaned. She was met with the cutest and sweetest half laugh, that despite the early hour, had her heart fluttering.   
  
“Just because you repeat the time out loud, does not mean it is going to change the fact that it is 7:30.” Lexa deadpanned. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know we have a busy day ahead of us, and you were the one who insisted on opening our gifts alone this morning.”   
  
At the mention of gifts, Clarke nearly sat up straight, but still cocooned in the oh-so-fluffy blankets, she smirked before pulling Lexa down on top of her. She wrapped her arms around the obliging woman, breathing in everything that was her wife. Lexa snaked her arms, as best she could from this position, around Clarke, and Clarke sighed heartily as her familiar body weight settled on top of her. “I like taking a moment every Christmas for just us. I have to share you all day; I want a few hours when you’re all mine, Woods.”   
  
“I’m always yours,” Lexa muttered into her ear.   
  
Clarke chuckled as she played with long dark waves. “I both love and hate how you do that.”   
  
Lexa disentangled her arms from under Clarke and propped herself up enough to look down at Clarke as she spoke. “Do what?”   
  
“Take my sweet sentiment, turn it on its head, and make it ten times more romantic.”   
  
“It’s not a competition, Clarke,” Lexa grinned. She suddenly rolled off Clarke and onto her feet in one fluid motion, and Clarke pouted at the loss. Lexa held out her hands, and while Clarke still expressed her displeasure with having to leave her cozy nest, she couldn’t deny Lexa when she looked at her like that. “Come on, up you go.”   
  
Clarke was pulled to her feet, and Lexa dropped her hands just long enough to grab her fluffy robe for her. Lexa held it open, and Clarke slipped it easily on, just reveling in how in love she still was with this kind and caring woman.   
  
“Breakfast is ready,” Lexa mentioned as she took Clarke’s hand. As soon as she opened the bedroom door, Clarke was met with the aroma of strong tea and cinnamon.   
  
“How long have you been awake?”   
  
“Just an hour,” Lexa shrugged as she handed Clarke a still steaming mug of tea. She held her own in both hands and hummed as she took a small sip. Clarke just admired the beauty of the mundane moment and smiled before taking a sip of tea.   
  
“You’re something else, Lexa Woods.”   
  
“Only because of you,” she winked, and Clarke just shook her head with a loving grin.   
  
“Breakfast while we open presents?”   
  
“If that’s what you want,” Lexa easily conceded.   
  
“Yes, please,” Clarke beamed as she settled down on the inviting couch in front of their festive Christmas tree. She watched as Lexa quickly plated two cinnamon rolls and placed them on the coffee table before rummaging under the tree. She returned to the couch and timidly handed Clarke the moderately sized box.   
  
“Okay, here, this one first.”   
  
Clarke couldn’t help it as the corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “I haven’t seen you this nervous about a Christmas gift since the morning you proposed.”   
  
Lexa didn’t respond, she just continued to stare nervously at the wrapped box, her leg bouncing repeatedly. Clarke narrowed her eyes as her mind raced as to why Lexa seemed so jittery but quickly tore open the package. “What’s this?”   
  
She pulled out a large beautiful leather book and traced her finger gently on the prominent G and W stamped on the front. She opened the photo album and was met with beaming, much younger, versions of herself and the woman sitting nervously next to her. “Oh my god, look at us! We were so young!” Clarke ran her fingers over the photos as she recalled each memory. “Aw, our first date. You didn’t want to take a picture with me. Do you remember? Aren’t you glad I made you now?”   
  
“Yes,” Lexa nodded as Clarke glanced up at her. “You were right. It was something I’d want to document.” Clarke didn’t hesitate as she leaned towards her and placed a loving yet chaste kiss to her lips. Clarke pulled away slowly, completely satisfied that she seemed to have quelled Lexa’s nerves, at least for the moment.   
  
Clarke continued to flip through the album, pausing every so often to laugh or give her wife a kiss as she was flooded with the story of their life together. When she reached the end, she carefully set the book down and pulled Lexa into a tight hug, making sure to squeeze extra hard to convey how much she appreciated the thoughtful gift. “Thank you, I love it.”   
  
Clarke could feel the deep inhale tense Lexa’s back, and she pulled away to glance curiously at Lexa. But before she could ask if she was alright, Lexa produced an identically wrapped box and placed it in Clarke’s lap. “And this one next,” she said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.   
  
Clarke debated quickly whether or not to tease Lexa with her unusual behavior, but she opted to just put the woman out of her misery as she seemed even more anxious about this particular gift.

Clarke tore back the paper to find an identical leather album. Same G and W stamped on the front, same supple leather. “Another photo album, what pictures could you possibly fill this one with?” Clarke wondered. The first one had nearly every single moment of their life documented within its pages. Clarke laughed curiously as she opened the book, but her laughter stifled as she saw the only photo placed in the album.  
  
She traced the black and white image, her finger dancing along the small little bean-shaped blob. “Lexa?”   
  
Clarke looked up at her wife to find her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She nodded with the most beautiful smile and confirmed out loud, “I’m pregnant.”   
  
Clarke gasped, “It finally took?”   
  
“It did. Merry Christmas, Clarke.”   
  
Clarke crashed her body into Lexa’s, pinning the woman against the back of the couch. She peppered kisses along any bare skin she could find as she felt tears of joy burn behind her own eyes. It finally took. After nearly seven months of trials and failures, tears and disappointments, it worked. They were going to be parents.   
  
Lexa returned Clarke’s enthusiasm holding her close and giggling as Clarke kissed at her. “Oh, my god, Lexa! We’re going to be parents!”   
  
“We’re going to be mothers. We’re going to have a baby.”   
  
“How far along?” Clarke asked as she finally found a slim amount of composure.   
  
“Doctor said about nine weeks. The baby is due in July.”   
  
Clarke’s eyes widened as her mind caught up to that timeline. “You ass!” she suddenly exclaimed, finally pulling herself off of Lexa. “How long have you known?”   
  
“Just a couple of weeks,” Lexa smirked. “I wanted to be certain before I told you. And then when I found out, well, I couldn’t help giving you one more Christmas present for the record books.”   
  
Clarke’s momentary anger was long gone. She didn’t care how long Lexa knew about the baby. Honestly, after so many almost positives, she sort of understood why Lexa waited to make certain she knew for sure. So Clarke just found herself placing a gentle hand upon Lexa’s still flat belly and smiled. “There’s a baby in there.”   
  
Lexa nodded minutely, and Clarke leaned in again. She cupped the back of Lexa’s head, tangling her fingers in her wavy locks, and brought their lips together. Lexa returned the kiss with more tenderness and happiness than Clarke had ever felt.   
  
It wasn’t long before Clarke gently pushed Lexa down, trapping her against the couch. It wasn’t long before clothes were discarded, and all thoughts of being on time to the Griffin/Kane family Christmas were thrown out the window. Their family and friends could wait. Clarke was more than bound and determined to cherish every moment she could with her pregnant wife. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The happiest of Clexmases to you and yours!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> One more thing, y'all... If you can, go ahead and give Nanoly (dontcha-wanheda on tumblr) a major shout out! Not only is she the creator of the Love Actually manip this fic is based on, but she's also the incredible soul who organized Clextober 2018 AND Clexmas 2018. She deserves all the love we can send for helping keep Clexa in our hearts and providing some always welcome holiday cheer.


End file.
